


We Are So Intimately Rearranged

by secondstar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Phone Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:24:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondstar/pseuds/secondstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A High School AU where there are no werewolves and no hunters. Stiles is getting ready for his senior year when he meets Derek at the coffee shop he works at.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [We Are So Intimately Rearranged](https://archiveofourown.org/works/833123) by [Amorph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorph/pseuds/Amorph)



Stiles was never a morning person. Sure, he rolled out of bed when his alarm went off, dragged his feet on his way to the shower, and was able to brush his teeth with the best of them, but he was not a morning person. Especially during the summer, especially when he had to open at the coffee shop. His alarm was set for four in the morning. His father would just be getting in from a night shift when Stiles would come down to the kitchen, take his Adderall and chug a glass of water. He would glare at his dad, albeit lovingly, because he had gotten Stiles the job. His dad would smile, patting him on the back as he made his way up to his bed, to sleep. 

“The sun isn’t even out yet!” Stiles would call up, his face set in a frown. There, of course, would be no response. 

Stiles always showed up with only a few seconds to spare, with Isaac standing, waiting with his his arms crossed. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” Stiles muttered, tying his apron as he slammed the Jeep’s door. Isaac, rolled his eyes, but had a small hint of a smile showing as he got out the keys. Isaac got keys, Stiles didn’t. For reasons. Mostly because Stiles lost his, once. He never got new ones. 

Cleaning the shop, getting ready for the day was Stiles’ favorite part of the day because he got to pick the music. And it got to be loud. It wasn’t so low that he could barely hear it, it wasn’t boring enough to make him fall asleep. It was the only reason he didn’t mind opening, didn’t mind grinding coffee beans at the asscrack of dawn. They got in at five to open by six, which surprisingly people actually came in, then. It blew Stiles’ mind that there were people in Beacon Hills that were actually up and about before the sun. 

Like Allison Argent. 

She came in almost every morning, fresh from a run. Sweaty, her hair up in a messy bun with her iPod still playing where it was strapped to her arm. Every time Stiles saw her, he thought about Scott. Scott his best friend who just so happened to have a giant crush on her since she moved to Beacon Hills the year before. Of course, though, she immediately became friends with Lydia and Jackson, the captain of the lacrosse team and the most popular girl in school. 

Which was unfortunate since he and Scott were on the bottom of the totem pole when it came to Beacon Hills High. Sure, he was on the lacrosse team, but he was pretty sure the coach kept him on just so the first liners could beat him to a pulp in practice. The same went for Scott. 

“What can I get you?” Stiles asked, holding in a sigh. She always got the same thing. Grande Tazo Chai Frappuccino, hold the cream. Still, he didn’t think she would appreciate it if he showed her how good his memory was. It would be creepy. 

“Hmm,” She said, looking at the menu as if she didn’t know what she wanted. Stiles raised an eyebrow, his hand holding a grande cup and the sharpie, ready to write it. “I think I want something different.” Stiles’ shoulders slumped. “What do you suggest?” She asked. Stiles’ jaw was open, so he closed it, looking up at the menu that was over his head, tapping his fingers against the counter as he scanned the list of Frappuccinos, gnawing on his bottom lip. 

“Well you like Chai, which is tea... so maybe the Green Tea?” He asked, looking back at her. She was smiling. 

“You know what I get?” She asked. Stiles shrugged, gulping. 

“You come in here all the time, is all,” he said, licking his lips. “If not that then maybe the Cinnamon Dolce Creme. It’s my favorite.” 

“I’ll try your favorite.” Stiles smiled at her, writing it, then ringing her up. “Are you excited about our senior year?” She asked. Stiles laughed, shaking his head. 

“Are you kidding? Well, anything is better than junior year, right? No more SATs.” Stiles sighed, taking his time making her drink because no one else was in line. Also, he was talking to Allison Argent, which you know, never fucking happened ever. Isaac was looking at him funny but he ignored him, waving his arm awkwardly behind him as if to say ‘shut up, shut up’ because you know, that is really fucking helpful. 

“I know, but it is always exciting, new classes, new friends in classes. Change.” Stiles tilted his head slightly, pondering what the fuck she was on about. “What are you taking? Any AP classes?” Stiles nodded. He was, a lot of them. 

“AP Econ, AP English, AP Physics, and AP Calc,” Stiles said, sighing. He was getting a headache just thinking about it. He laughed. “Maybe this year won’t be easier than last year.” 

“We’ll be in English together, I bet. I’m taking AP English, AP French, and AP Enviro.” Why was she smiling at him, and why was she talking to him still? This was some sort of twilight zone, Stiles knew it. There was no other explanation. “Lydia will be in English with us, too.” Stiles’ ears perked up at the mention of Lydia. He cleared his throat, handing Allison her drink. 

“Lydia, great. Awesome. Maybe we could all...” he moved his hands around in a weird circular motion. “We could study or something together.” Oh god, word vomit was the worst thing ever and he had a bad case of it. He needed to go find a cave and live in it until graduation. Like they would ever-

“Yeah, maybe.” She said smiling, taking a sip of her drink with her straw. She nodded, looking at it as she licked her lips. “Your favorite drink is awesome, Stiles.” Stiles’ eyes widened, he could feel his cheeks flush. Oh Jesus, she needed to leave. Now. 

“Th-thanks.” He managed to get out. She waved, then left. 

There was no way the day could get weirder after that interaction. No way. 

Of course, Stiles was completely wrong. When was he right, ever? He was never right because that would be completely out of character for him. Try out for lacrosse as a joke? Get on the team. Not the real team, the team that gets to sit on the bench. The team that got tackled in practice. That was Stiles’ life and he should really know by this point in his life that it wasn’t going to change. 

Scott always came in, whenever he got out of bed, usually somewhere between noon and two when Stiles got off. As if on cue, right after noon, Scott walked in. His hair was a mess and he looked like he quite literally just walked out of bed. Stiles bit his lip, wondering if he should tell Scott about Allison, about how she talked to him and liked his drink and said she would study with him and oh god. He decided against it, since Scott wasn’t taking any AP classes. Stiles didn’t want to rub it in, at all. He wouldn’t mention it. Well, not all of it.

“Allison totally ordered something new today.” Stiles said as he made Scott’s usual: an iced coffee with a shot of vanilla and milk. 

“How many shots of espresso have you had today?” Scott asked, an eyebrow raised. Stiles made a face at him as he handed Scott his drink. 

“Two and a half.” Stiles admitted, rubbing his head. “Did you hear me?” He asked. Scott shrugged. 

“So? What does that matter?” Stiles’ brow furrowed. 

“What is your problem? Usually you get all starry eyed and start drooling when I tell you what color her shorts were or how her messy bun looked particularly messy this morning.” Stiles took a deep breath, leaning against the counter. 

“School starts Monday.” 

“Ahhhhh.” Stiles said, sighing. “Make sense. Well, it won’t be too bad for you, you know. Senior year is easier than junior.” 

“And we aren’t going to be in any of the same classes.” Stiles pouted, for a second. 

“Well we could be in History together, still. And there is always lacrosse. We could write notes to each other and put them in our lockers-”

“Shut up.” Scott said, trying to hold back a laugh. Stiles smiled at Scott as the door to the shop opened and in walked a guy. He had sunglasses on, which he promptly took off and slipped into the neck of his v-neck shirt. Stiles bit his lip, standing up straight and glaring at Scott to get out of the way. Customers before Scott, he reminded himself. 

“What can I get you?” Stiles asked. 

“An Espresso Macchiato.” The stranger said, pulling out his wallet. Scott was behind him, making a face. Stiles made one back as he said the total. The stranger raised an eyebrow at him, and Stiles coughed, clearing his throat. Embarrassing. Stiles took the money, giving the man change before rushing to make his order. 

“I, uh, have never seen you in here before.” He said, trying to make conversation. He looked over and Scott was seated on one of the couches, flipping through a magazine that someone left. 

“Just moved back to town.” 

“Back?” Stiles asked. 

“Yeah, my family used to live here. We moved away about six years ago, so.” He wasn’t exactly an open book, but he wasn’t completely closed off either. 

“Well, welcome back.” Stiles said, handing him the drink. The guy looked to Stiles’ name tag, and smiled. 

“Thanks, Stiles.” Why the fuck were there butterflies in Stiles’ stomach? Inopportune time to be turned on, rude. His body was rude. 

“No problem...” Stiles trailed off, hoping for a name. 

“Derek.” He said, chuckling as he walked out. Stiles bit the corner of his mouth, raking his teeth across his lip slowly as he watched Derek walk down the sidewalk and get into a black camaro. 

“Fuck.” He whispered. Fuck.

 

Thank fuck that he got off at two. Scott waited around for him, to the chagrin of Isaac, like always. He tossed his apron in the back of his Jeep as they climbed in. 

“I am starving, dude.” Stiles said, starting the Jeep and backing out. “I could seriously eat an entire buffet right now.” 

“Raid your fridge?” Scott suggested. Stiles sighed, shaking his head. 

“Dad is home, may give me a list of shit to do before school. Like ‘do your laundry’. I hate laundry.” 

“You do smell, though.” Scott said, laughing. Stiles punched him, hard. He stopped and got McDonalds, because their fries are the best fries. 

“There is a rave tonight.” Stiles laughed.

“I am not going, I have to open again.” 

“You could stay out all night, sleep now.” Scott said, clearly not understanding how hard it would be. “Pop an Adderall.” Stiles made a face. 

 

“You are supposed to stop my pill popping, not enable it.” He said with a fry in his mouth. “I could take something and stay up, I guess.” 

“It wouldn’t be worse than what everyone else will be on.”

“Why do you want to go?” Stiles asked. “Raves aren’t even your scene.” 

“Alli-” 

“Bah.” Stiles said, shoving fries in his mouth. It was going to be a long day. 

They spent the day playing Fallout 3 and Siren . Siren because Stiles actually liked playing games that scared the shit out of him. He ate that stuff up, screaming his lungs out. He liked Silent Hill, Fatal Frame, and Dead Space. By the time night fell, Scott and Stiles were both creeped the fuck out and ready for the rave. Scott, of course, needed to change and shower, since he was still wearing what were probably his pajamas. 

Stiles played Call of Duty 4 while Scott showered, because there was no such thing as too many video games. He looked at his watch, groaning as Scott took forever. 

“You take longer than your mom to get ready, don’t you?” He called out. Scott walked into his room, flicking Stiles off. “Oh, original, Scott. Are you ready?” He asked. 

“Yeah, let me get my shoes on then we can go.” 

Stiles could hear the music from outside the warehouse, and he loved it. He loved dubstep, he didn’t even give a fuck what people thought because it kept him entertained. It was fast, and he loved the climb of the music, and the decent down. He loved how it made him want to jump around, expel all his excess energy, which he had a shit ton of to be frank. He had an Adderall in his pocket, but for now he was fine. He wanted to enjoy the music, the people pressed against each other as they danced. He didn’t want to be numb, he didn’t want to be mellow. He wanted to be himself, here. 

He’d take the Adderall when he felt like he was going to pass out, probably as he went in to work. Ah, the next day was going to suck, hard. 

Inside was hot and sticky. A warehouse in the middle of summer? Yeah, good plan. He was sweating within minutes. That didn’t stop the feeling of euphoria though, being surrounded by people who didn’t care who he was, didn’t care that he wasn’t first line on his lacrosse team, didn’t give a fuck that he worked at a coffee shop. They didn’t know a thing about him and he didn’t know them and that was fucking wonderful. 

Someone came up to him, cupping his face, then kissed him. Just randomly, just fucking kissed him. It was a guy, and his pupils were blown wide. For a second, Stiles was worried that they had passed him E, but he knew they would have asked. Ecstasy was the last thing he needed. He was bouncy enough as it was. 

Without a word, the mysterious guy was gone. 

“Good kisser.” Stiles laughed, looking around for Scott. No doubt, he was probably looking for Allison. Way to leave him hanging, in the middle of a crowd of strangers. A new song started and Stiles started to move along with the music, not caring how he was moving. Hands were everywhere, mouths, clothes were being discarded. Oh, god, he loved raves. 

Too bad school was starting. 

“Hey Stiles.” A familiar voice said, and Stiles turned around, bringing his hands down from where they were in the air. 

“Uh, hey... Derek?” He asked, surprised to see Derek at the rave, shirtless. Stiles couldn’t stop himself from looking him up and down. He didn’t want to stop himself, really. Why? Derek was the one shirtless at a rave. His shirt was tucked into his belt, covering his ass. There went Stiles’ body, betraying him again. Derek grinned at him, taking a step forward, moving with the music. It was climbing up and up and it looked as though Derek didn’t have any intention of stopping. Stiles took the hint, and stepped closer, a hand sliding tentatively over Derek’s side as Stiles moved his hips. Derek gripped Stiles’ waist, and pulled him towards him. 

Oh, shit. 

Stiles laughed, he couldn’t help it. He out right laughed. Derek was older, definitely older. In his mid-twenties at least, judging by his ability to grow a beard. Well, the stubble... shit. Derek’s lips played at Stiles’ ear and he let out a moan. In public. This was happening in public. Stiles knew, though, that no one cared, here. 

“You like that?” Derek asked and Stiles could only nod his head in response. For once, he had no words. He literally couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wasn’t ‘your muscles are like a greek god’s’ because that is something he shouldn’t say, ever. Never. Derek’s mouth was on his ear, then his neck, his hands slipped beneath Stiles’ shirt and circled his stomach. Stiles moved his head, searching for Derek’s mouth. When he found it, he moaned. 

Derek opened his mouth for Stiles, pressing his body against Stiles’. First, Stiles was kissed by that random, and now a hot older guy was making out with him. Senior year was going to be fucking amazing if this was how it was starting. 

“Want to get out of here?” Derek asked and Stiles’ heart was beating in his throat. He nodded, because fuck yes he wanted to leave with Derek. His eyes widened. 

“Scott.” He whispered, looking around as Derek took his hand and lead him out. It surprised him when he saw how late it was already, almost two thirty. Well, he had a bit before he had to be at work. Plenty of time, right? Right. He texted Scott, telling him he had to go and to get Allison to take him home. Solid game plan. He totally wasn’t ditching his best friend. “Uh, what about my car?” Stiles asked as Derek brought him to the black camaro he noticed earlier at the coffee shop. 

“I’ll bring you back.” Derek said, opening the door for Stiles. Stiles nodded, getting in on the passenger side. He was getting in a stranger’s car. Well, if this wasn’t the dumbest thing he had ever done, he didn’t know what was. Talk about thinking with your dick, this was just-

Derek’s mouth was on his again, his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck as he sat in the driver’s seat. Stiles put his hand on Derek’s thigh, for leverage of course. They were kissing, for what seemed like forever to Stiles. He was panting and the windows were fogging and he had to remember to breathe. It was easier when Derek’s mouth moved to his neck, because then breathing came naturally. Stiles couldn’t seem to close his mouth though, moaning when he felt teeth scrape across his skin. His hand shifted, higher on Derek’s thigh. A hand was on top of his, moving it between Derek’s legs. Oh, right. Yes. Stiles shuddered, his fingers outlining Derek’s arousal. He licked his lips as Derek rolled his hips. Fuck, this was really happening. Going from never been kissed ever in the history of his life to a random and now Derek wanting him. Alright, alright. 

He unzipped Derek’s pants, freeing him. Derek moved his seat back, giving Stiles more room, his hand still on the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles looked at him, his own erection throbbing in his pants as his hand wrapped around Derek, stroking him tentatively. By Derek’s reaction, Stiles figured what worked on him worked on Derek, too. His confidence growing quickly, he leaned over, ghosting his mouth over Derek’s head indecisively. He trailed down his shaft, not entirely committing yet. Derek moaned above him, his hand refusing to leave Stiles’ neck, applying a small amount of pressure. Stiles bit the bullet, and took Derek into his mouth, opening wide. 

“Yes, like that.” Derek said, reassuring him. After a while, he got the hang of it, and Derek started moving his hips, fucking up into his mouth, keeping him pressed down. Stiles held onto Derek’s thighs, letting him. He could hear his mouth making wet, sloppy noses. Sucking and lapping at Derek’s cock. He moaned, unable to keep it in. Derek pulled Stiles off of him, kissing his red, swollen lips and reaching his hand between Stiles’ legs, gripping him through his jeans. Stiles shuddered, gasping as Derek unzipped his jeans, feeling him through his damp boxer briefs. Oh, god, they were damp. Precome dripped from his cock as Derek handled him. 

“Oh, fuck.” Stiles gasped as Derek stroked him. He wasn’t going to make it, he wasn’t going to- “Sorry.” Stiles almost squeaked. Derek laughed, licking his fingers as if it was nothing that Stiles came in two point five seconds after Derek had touched him. 

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He said, taking Stiles’ hand and pulling it to his erection. “You going to make me do the same, Stiles?” He asked. Stiles whimpered, gripping him tight, jacking him fast, like he did when he wanted to come. Derek closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip as he panted, letting Stiles jerk him off until he came. He spilled onto his own chest, which had Stiles’ mouth watering. Without blinking, he leaned in and licked Derek’s chest, wanting to taste him. 

Once Stiles’ euphoric climax had subsided, he knew he was blushing. Derek cupped his face, kissing him. A shiver went down Stiles’ spine as he thought about how his mouth must taste like Derek. Derek was kissing him when he had just- 

Stiles moaned again, his hand on Derek’s chest. They hadn’t even turned the car on. 

“What time is it?” Stiles asked. Derek grunted, looking at his watch. 

“Four.” He whispered against Stiles’ lips. 

“Shit, I’ve got to shower.” Stiles said, pushing away from Derek. “I’ve got to work.” Derek nodded. 

“Maybe I’ll stop by.” Stiles’ heart raced as he nodded. 

“Yeah, that... that would be cool.” He said, feigning at nonchalance. 

Derek did show up, at around noon. Stiles was awake, due to his Adderall and three shots of espresso and an Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte that he was carrying around with him all day. He was practically bouncing in place. He knew, though, that if he sat down he would pass out. He only had two hours left and he had to make it until then. Derek didn’t stay long, but ordered the same as the day before and Stiles couldn’t wipe the grin off of his own face. Derek, too, had a smirk that let Stiles know he was having the same problem. This time, Derek used a debit card. Stiles definitely noticed that he had written his number down and he definitely fucking noticed that Derek had put a tip in the tip jar. 

Fuck. Yes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is asked on a date, sort of?

Stiles got off work at two, the normal time, and headed straight home. He was so tired he thought he would pass out. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars. He was to the point where if his head wasn’t on a pillow soon he would get angry. Hours ago he was slap happy, thinking everything was funny. Now, though, he wanted to kill things. There was this light down the road that he hated with a passion, because it stayed red for what felt like ages. Well today it chose to catch him, and today it decided his car wasn’t there so it didn’t change for seven minutes and twelve seconds. Stiles knew because he counted. That light was going down. Eventually. After sleep. 

Stiles walked into the house and groaned, his head tilted back, feet dragging off the floor. He had one foot on the stairs when he heard his dad clear his throat. 

“Stiles, get in here.” He said from the kitchen, his tone ominous. Shitballs. Stiles walked in, leaning against the doorframe that lead into the kitchen, resting his head. “Tired?” He asked as he sat at the table, coffee in hand, and the morning’s newspaper. He apparently had just gotten up from working the night shift. Stiles nodded, trying not to close his eyes. The door frame was a lot more comfortable than he had originally thought it would be. “Long night?” He asked. Stiles heard warning signs go off in his brain but his reaction time was sluggish, his brain wasn’t working properly. “Your bed was made when I came in this morning.” Stiles made a noncommittal noise. “Your xbox was still on from when Scott was here yesterday.” Why the fuck was his dad the Sheriff? This was not going well. “And you look dead on your feet. Please tell me you were not out all night long.” 

“I-” Stiles shut his mouth, not knowing what to say. 

“Stiles, I have a double shift today. You start school tomorrow. If you don’t get your shit together this year, you’ll be grounded until college.” Stiles made a frustrated noise, biting his bottom lip in annoyance. Keep your mouth shut, don’t say anything. 

“I was with Scott, so-”

“And that is supposed to make me feel better?” The Sheriff asked, standing. “Do me a favor, Stiles, and stay in tonight. School tomorrow. I want you here, curfew for this year is set at ten.” Stiles’ eyes widened, his jaw dropped. 

“What? That-”

“Is your curfew. Break it, you are grounded. No discussion.” With that, his dad walked off to take a shower before he had to work sixteen hours straight. Stiles flailed angrily, gritting his teeth as he held back expletives within earshot of his dad. 

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. This was fucking bullshit. He was seventeen, not a child. He should be able to go to a rave and stay out if he wanted to. He didn’t do any drugs, he didn’t-

Well. He definitely got into a car with a stranger. That happened. Stiles climbed the stairs slowly, practically crawled out of his clothes, then fell into bed. He didn’t even bother to unmake it before he fell asleep. 

Stiles woke up to the sound of a text message coming through. He didn’t know where he was, at first. Disoriented and groggy, he reached for his phone. His heart leapt when he saw it was from Derek. 

_I was thinking about maybe getting Chinese take out and watching The Shining, you interested?_ Holy fucking shit, yes. Stiles scrambled into a seated position, looking over the text three times before glancing at the clock. It was just past six. 

He responded with: _Sounds like a plan. Give me an hour?_ He practically ran into the bathroom, turned on the shower, then waited for the water to warm up. Derek responded with his address, saying that an hour would be perfect. Stiles’ weaknesses, Chinese food and horror films. Yes, please, all day everyday. Stiles took the fastest shower known to man, then brushed his teeth. That was when he felt it, a feeling that he dreaded most: lightheaded, dizzy, and weak. 

Shit, shit, fuck it all. He hadn’t taken any Adderall since four that morning. His body hated him, that was the only explanation. He grabbed the bottle that was kept in the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. He took it, angry that he hadn’t taken it before he went to bed. He fucked up his dosage schedule, and that along with his sleep schedule.... his week was going to get interesting. Good thing he was about to go eat, because he wouldn’t feel better until he did, despite how much the medication suppressed his appetite. 

Pretending you felt fine was an art that Stiles thought that he was pretty good at, really. If he could feign anything, it was being able to make people think everything was fine when in fact, usually nothing was okay. Ever since his mother died, Stiles knew people didn’t want to see him frown all the time and he didn’t want a pity party. He hid his feelings with a smile and a joke, especially from his dad. He didn’t want his dad to worry about him, ever. Even though he totally did, albeit even a little too much. 

Stiles grumbled, grabbing his car keys as he rubbed his head, antsy, gittery. His life was a joke. Of course he would be a spastic mess right now. He turned his car on, plugging Derek’s address into the GPS on his phone when he got a text from Scott. 

_You alive?_ it read. Stiles laughed. 

_Yeah, you get home alright?_ Stiles asked. He had totally forgot about-

 _Hell yes, Allison took me home. What are you doing right now? Want to come over?_ Stiles bit his lip, his leg bouncing at an alarming rate. He sighed, shaking his head. 

_I can’t. School night. Dad is being ridiculous._

_Want me to come over?_ Stiles basically growled. 

_I’ve sort of got a date. Sort of? Maybe. Kind of._ Stiles put, then hit send. He knew he’d get a call in 5, 4, 3, 2- 

Stiles’ phone rang, it was Scott. 

“Who are you going out with?” Scott asked, sounding way too excited about it. 

“His name is Derek, uh. We met last night.” Stiles said, unable to keep still in the driver’s seat of his Jeep. 

“Is that why you left me?” Scott asked, laughing. “Thought you said you had a curfew-”

“Yeah, I do. Which is why I need to get going so I can still be home in time for it so I am not grounded from seeing him again.” Stiles snapped without meaning to. He shut his eyes, cursing himself for missing his dosage. Scott let it roll, though, knowing Stiles’ nuances. “I’ll get on when I get home and we can play Call of Duty until we pass out, deal?” 

“Deal.” 

Stiles was late getting to Derek’s but only by a few minutes. Fashionably late? Stiles looked down, he definitely wouldn’t be considered fashionable. He knocked on the door of what he hoped was Derek’s apartment. Derek opened the door, smiling. 

“Hey.” He said, which had Stiles rubbing his hands together somewhat awkwardly. Good job, Stiles. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I got a call from a friend and then my GPS wouldn’t work so I had to reboot my phone and then every stop light known to man in this town has a vendetta against me,” Stiles rambled out, nervous. This was different than the night before. This was not a rave, not even close. This was personal, this was Derek’s home. 

“It’s not a problem,” Derek said, opening the door wider so that Stiles could walk in. “The take out should get here soon, I ordered basically... everything on the menu?” Stiles laughed. 

“As long as I get my egg roll I will be happy.” Stiles joked as he looked around. “Wow that is a lot of books.” He said, walking over to a bookshelf that took up most of one of the walls. It had everything from Harry Potter to 1984 on it. It was even alphabetized. Stiles was lucky if all of his books were facing the right direction. Although, his attention span didn’t hold well when it came to novels, so he figured it was for the best that he spent most of his money on Sparknotes. 

“I read a lot.” Derek said, sounding amused. Stiles walked over to the fireplace, looking at the pictures that were on the mantle. 

“This your family?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded, walking over, standing next to Stiles, their arms touching. 

“That’s them.” Derek whispered, not elaborating. Stiles heard it though, the hint of sadness in Derek’s voice. Stiles knew that tone well, because he used it whenever someone mentioned his mother. Stiles decided to change the subject. 

“So you like horror movies?” Stiles asked, gulping. He really should have gone for a run around the block before knocking on Derek’s door because if he didn’t expel any of this energy soon he was pretty sure that he was going to explode. 

“I do, mostly older ones like The Exorcist, The Omen, The Birds...”

“Alfred Hitchcock movies?” Derek nodded. “They are pretty cool, yeah. Nothing beats Shaun of the Dead, though.” Derek laughed. Stiles liked the sound of it, it made his stomach do somersaults. 

“Fan of Simon Pegg and Nick Frost?” 

“Fuck yeah, they are hilarious,” Stiles said, gnawing on his lip. The doorbell rang and Stiles jumped. Derek took out his wallet as he walked to the door and Stiles wanted to stop him and hand him some cash to pitch in. 

“I got this,” Derek said over his shoulder, as if he knew what Stiles was thinking. Stiles sat on the couch, unpacking the bags as Derek set them down. Lo Mein, fried rice, seseme chicken, beef and broccoli, egg rolls and egg drop soup with those crunchy things that Stiles loved. Derek put the movie on and grabbed plates for them so that they could divvy up the food. 

They ate in mostly silence, except for Stiles asking for a bowl so that they could split the soup. He broke up the crunchy Chinese noodles and put them in the soup a couple of pieces at a time so that they wouldn’t get soggy when he ate it. Derek watched him out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing about Stiles’ weird eating habit. After the food was devoured, Stiles sat back on the couch, his shoes off so he could tuck his feet up underneath him. His mind was racing, but his body was exhausted. He tilted his head to the side so that he could lean back and still see the movie. The couch they were seated on was a small two seater, so his legs were touching Derek’s. It didn’t feel awkward, but more like it was easy, like Derek was Scott. Derek’s hand came up, resting on the back of the couch nonchalantly, so Stiles shifted slightly closer. His heart was beating in his throat, over thinking the situation. He turned his head to say something, but his lips found Derek’s, swallowing his words. 

It felt too easy, too casual. They kissed slowly, lazily, very much unlike the desperation of the night before. Stiles liked it, kissing like they had all the time in the world. Not rushing, not tugging at each other’s clothes. Although, that sounded like fun too. He moaned into the kiss as Derek’s hand went to the back of Stiles’ neck. It was like a trigger, for Stiles. His hands shot up, grabbing onto Derek’s shirt as the dynamic of the kiss shifted. Derek’s free hand came down to Stiles’ waist, moving him easily so that Stiles was straddling Derek as they continued kissing. Derek’s hands roamed over Stiles’ body, landing on his ass, pressing him down onto his lap. Stiles gasped, feeling his own erection press up against Derek’s. Derek moved Stiles’ hips, both of them moving as if they were fucking. Stiles’ brain short circuited, his mouth moved from Derek’s lips to his neck, loving the feel of Derek’s hands gripping him tightly, dictating the pace of their movements. 

Derek shifted, his hands sliding up Stiles’ torso, ridding him of his shirt, his mouth trailing over Stiles’ chest. Eyelids heavy with lust, Stiles groaned as Derek played at a nipple slowly, teasing. Stiles’ fingers raked through Derek’s hair as he rolled his hips, practically begging to be fucked. He didn’t know when he became so desperate, but by his count it was only since yesterday. He didn’t care right then, he didn’t give a fuck how he looked because what Derek was doing to him made his cock jerk in his pants. He wanted more, needed more and Derek wanted to give it to him. 

Derek’s hand slid underneath Stiles’ jeans, under his boxer briefs, gripping the skin of his ass. Stiles was pretty sure he just whimpered, and that Derek chuckled. Rude, that was rude. He was practically dripping precome, his briefs soaked and Derek was laughing. Stiles moved his hips in retaliation, which made Derek moan, cupping Stiles’ face with his hands, their lips crashing together once more. 

And then Stiles’ phone rang. He thought about ignoring it, thinking it was Scott. But then he noticed the ring tone. 

His dad. 

“Uh, shit.” He whispered, reaching into his pocket and getting it out, shuffling off of Derek. “I have to... yeah-” He said, walking into the kitchen, rubbing his head with frustration. “Yeah?” He asked, clearing his throat. 

“I just called the house to make sure you were upholding the curfew.” Stiles’ eyes widened as he searched for a clock. His eyes landed on the microwave. It was 10:15pm. Shit, shit, oh shit. He was dead, so dead. The deadest. 

“Oh, shi-” He started. 

“If I call the house again and you aren’t there in twenty minutes I am disconnecting xbox live.” The Sheriff said, then hung up. Stiles cursed under his breath, holding back from stomping his foot on the floor. 

“Bad news?” Derek asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Oh, god he looked... Stiles wanted to jump him. 

“I’ve got... I’ve got to go.” Stiles said, looking defeated, shifting his weight from leg to leg, restless. “I mean, I’d love to stay, to you know... finish what we started but I sort of promised someone I’d be somewhere and you called last minute and I thought-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek said, grinning. “There’s always next time.” Stiles nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, mentally kicking himself. He walked towards Derek, who kissed him again, keeping it short and to the point: there would be a next time. Stiles had to force himself to leave. 

 

When he walked in the door, the phone was ringing. He ran to the kitchen, grabbing it just in time. 

“Congratulations, Stiles. You’ve won yourself a reprieve. Not grounded, but you have to do all the chores for the week.” 

“What? But-”

“Dishes, laundry, all of it.” 

“I hate laundry.” Stiles muttered, his father sighed, sounding tired. “The grocery shopping?”

“You got it, kid.” Stiles groaned. “That was your last warning, though.” 

“Right, got it. Be home. Will call. Grounding will happen.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Night, dad,” Stiles said. 

“Good night, Stiles.” 

Scott was waiting for him to play Call of Duty but first, Stiles had to take care of something. Less than ten minutes to himself, and he was sorted. It didn’t take him long, really. All he had to do was think about Derek’s hand on his neck, of his mouth on him. 

He washed his hands, then changed into his pajama pants, his favorite ones, then went downstairs to sign on. His dad wouldn’t let him have a TV in his room, for obvious reasons. Stiles wouldn’t ever get anything done otherwise. So he sat in his dad’s chair, reclined, as he and Scott played and talked to each other over their headsets until neither of them could keep their eyes open any longer. 

The morning of the first day of school was no different than any other. Grumbling and barely awake, Stiles showered. His father was in bed, so he tried to be as quiet as possible. He made sure to take his pill, still feeling off from the day before. In homeroom, he got his schedule. He listened to the morning announcements, welcoming the students back for another year. Stiles wished he had stopped by the coffee shop for a shot of espresso. He could feel the bags under his eyes. Staying up late with Scott was a mistake, but he had needed it. He needed to get his mind off of things, off of Derek. Scott had asked how it went, and Stiles told him. Not the details, because Scott said he didn’t want those. 

He told him about his father calling, about almost getting grounded. 

“If that happened, I would only see you at lacrosse practice.” Scott had whined. Stiles sighed. 

“I know.” 

And Scott had been right. They didn’t have any classes together. The first thing he had done was text his schedule to Scott, Scott had done the same. Nothing the same, not one class. Stiles called bullshit on this. He had AP English first, so when the bell rang he went to his locker to grab his books for his first three periods, which were on the other end of the building. He walked in right as the bell was ringing, when the only seat left was front and center. He hated sitting in the front, he felt like he couldn’t fidget in the front, couldn’t doodle. 

He grabbed his books out of his bag, not looking up until the teacher started speaking. It was a voice he knew well. Too well. 

“Welcome to AP English, I am your teacher, Mr. Hale.” Stiles’ eyes widened as he looked up at Derek, who was staring at him, surprise written across his face. “I am passing out the semester’s syllabus, please look over it.” He said, breaking eye contact with Stiles. 

Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by lsdme.
> 
>  
> 
> So I sort of woke up four hours early for work and this happened.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles sank down in his chair, pen in his mouth as he stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Derek. Derek who he had made out with last night, who he blew, who made him come in two point five seconds in the passenger seat of his car. Derek who apparently wore mother fucking glasses when he taught, and decided that vests were appropriate school attire. Oh, dear fucking god. He was going to hell.

This was not happening. 

Stiles jumped when fingers snapped in front of his face. He looked up, dropping his pen from his mouth. 

“Mr. Stilinski?” Derek asked, Mr. Hale asked. Stiles gulped, nodding, licking his lips subconsciously. “I asked you a question.” Mr. Hale, think of him as Mr. Hale, said, his tone unamused. Stiles didn’t like that tone directed at him, at all. It made him shudder. He wanted to disappear. He gulped again.

“I-” He started, shaking his head. “I didn’t hear what you asked.” 

“I asked what, of the four books that were on the summer reading list, did you enjoy most?” Dere- Mr. Hale asked. Stiles sat up, looking around for Scott. Scott wasn’t there, Scott wasn’t in any of his classes, dammit. 

“I, uh... well. I thought that _A Separate Peace_ was interesting,” he started, clearing his throat. “I thought that in _Hedda Gabler_ that they talked about backdoors a bit too much.” A few people surrounding Stiles laughed, which made him smile. Stiles looked up at Derek, biting his bottom lip. Derek was suppressing a smile, he could tell. “But it was boring, so not that one. _A Tale of Two Cities_ was just...” Stiles made a face, “Unbearable.” Derek’s jaw clenched, an eyebrow rose. “So I am going to have to go with _The Importance of Being Earnest_. Who wouldn’t want to pretend to be someone they’re not, even if just for a little while,” Stiles said, ending on a whisper. 

“Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Stilinski-”

“Call me Stiles. Mr. Stilinski is my dad.” Stiles cut in. Derek said nothing as he asked a girl a few rows back the same question. Stiles took to doodling, refusing to look up again until the bell rang. He grabbed his things in a rush, hoping to get the fuck out before-

“Stiles, can you stay back a moment?” Derek asked. Stiles whimpered, but sat back down, sighing as he played with his pen. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. He blamed Derek with his glasses and his voice and his fucking _vest_. Stiles looked up at him in time to watch Derek lean against his desk and cross his arms. 

This isn’t fucking fair, this is just cruel and unusual punishment. “We need to talk.” Derek had that unamused tone still, which made Stiles’ stomach lurch. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to leave. He wanted to hide. 

“How about we make out instead,” Stiles offered, looking up at Derek. Derek raised an eyebrow. 

“How old are you?” He asked. Ouch, oh fuck. Stiles cringed, gnawing on his bottom lip as if it would save him. 

“Seventeen.” Derek groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. People were filing in, which was fortunate for Stiles. Derek looked at him, his jaw clenched, his head shaking slightly. “We will finish this conversation later,” He said as he watched Stiles scurry to the door. Stiles nodded, then left. As soon as he was around the corner he leaned against a locker, covering his eyes with a hand. He took a deep breath, then hit the locker as hard as he could. 

Fuck everything. 

AP Econ bored Stiles to death, and thank god he had a study period because he had a stress headache. He texted Scott, telling him he would be in the library. He found a table and sat in it, laying his head against the tabletop. He closed his eyes, his leg absentmindedly bouncing. His phone buzzed and he took a deep breath before looking at it. He had expected it to be Scott, but it was Derek. 

_Sorry if I was a little intense. I had no idea you’d be a student._ Stiles stared at it for a minute, wondering if he should respond or not. He was a teacher, his teacher. Stiles’ mouth watered when he thought about how he felt on top of Derek, on Derek’s hands on his ass, the feel of Derek’s tongue on his skin- 

_Well who knew you’d be teaching me? AP English? Really?_ Stiles sniffed, putting his phone down as he waited for a response. His leg was insane, not staying still. He couldn’t calm down, his fingers drummed against the table impatiently. 

_I am serious about that talk._

Stiles answered back, knowing Derek would probably roll his eyes or like, refuse to respond. Stiles was right, for once. Derek didn’t answer that and when the bell rang, Stiles made his way to the cafeteria for lunch. He found Scott, who had saved him a place beside him. 

“Today sucks,” Stiles murmured, sitting down. 

“Where is your lunch?” Scott asked. Stiles shook his head. He wasn’t hungry. At all. His meds fucked up everything, he had no appetite and he couldn’t stop fucking moving. Stiles scratched his neck, shaking his head again. “Want half of my sandwich?” Scott asked. Stiles almost shook his head once more, but took the sandwich instead, biting into it. “What’s up?” 

 

“Shit with, uh, Derek.”

“That went downhill fast.”

“Tell me about it,” Stiles said, making a face as he reached over and took one of Scott’s chips. Maybe he was hungry than he had originally thought. “You work tonight?” Scott asked. Stiles nodded. 

“Yeah, three to nine.” 

“I work until seven, want me to stop by afterwards?” Scott asked. Stiles nodded. 

“Yeah, but I can’t hang afterwards. I’ve got chores, I missed curfew last night.” 

“Oh, shit.”

The afternoon went by faster, thank god, because Stiles wanted to be distracted and making people over priced coffee would be the perfect distraction. After school was always busy, very busy. When Stiles walked behind the counter tying his apron, he stopped dead in his tracks. Derek was in line with his fucking glasses and that vest. Stiles gritted his teeth, asking the next person in line what they wanted. Maybe if he timed it right, Isaac would serve Derek and not him. He suddenly didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t want Derek to tell him they were done, he didn’t want Derek to shut him down because of his age. 

Stiles looked from Derek to Isaac, who was making the drinks. Stiles didn’t like being on register when they were busy, he liked making everything. He liked having to rush, he liked how busy he was. Register bored him. He sighed, writing down a woman’s order and putting the cup in a line with others who were waiting. Derek stepped forward and Stiles put up a finger, asking him to wait. 

“One second, we’re backed up. If you could give us a minute to catch up-”

“Alright,” Derek said, his voice softer than in school. It made Stiles stop and look at him. 

“Stiles, come on,” Isaac urged him, making Stiles snap out of it and grab a cup and making the beverage. “What is going on?” Isaac asked in a whisper, looking at Derek. “Isn’t that the new English teacher?” Stiles scrunched his face, wishing Isaac wasn’t so smart. 

“Uh, yeah, he is. Nothing’s on. Nothing is going-” Stiles stumbled over his words, rolling his eyes at himself. “It’s nothing, Isaac.” 

Isaac didn’t say anything else, but his look said it all: he knew something was up. Once Stiles helped by making two drinks, he came back to Derek who had been waiting patiently. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Stiles whispered, sighing. “What can I get for you?” 

“What time do you get off?” Derek asked, looking up at the menu as if he was still deciding. Stiles looked to Isaac who was busy and out of earshot. 

“Nine, but-”

“Text me, I’ll get an Iced Caramel Macchiato, tall.” Stiles lifted an eyebrow as he wrote it. 

“Thought you were a black coffee kind of guy.” Stiles murmured. Derek smirked, leaning forward just enough for Stiles to notice. 

“I have a sweet tooth, too.” Stiles gulped, remembering to breathe. He told Derek the total, putting the cup in line for Isaac to make it. Derek handed him a five. “Keep the change.” Stiles bit his lip, putting Derek’s change in the tip jar. 

He was getting mixed signals and this just wasn’t on. During his break, he went out back and got out his phone, sitting on the ground with an everything bagel with cream cheese and an Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte. He thought about dialing Derek, but he changed his mind at the last second, calling his dad instead. 

“Yeah?” His dad asked, answering after only one ring. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, dad, I’m fine,” Stiles said, sighing. “Was just seeing if you wanted me to get anything before I headed home, after work.” He took a long sip of his drink, hoping the caffeine would hit him. 

“We’re out of milk, and Stiles?” 

“Yeah, dad?” Stiles asked, picking at his bagel. 

“Try to get home by ten.” Stiles smiled, nodding his head even though his dad couldn’t see him. “Love you, dad.” 

“Love you too, kid. I’ll be home when you get here.” Stiles nodded, sighing. He finished his bagel then walked back in. Nine o’clock couldn’t come soon enough for him. 

Scott stopped by, like he said he would, but Stiles wasn’t in the mood. He could feel his anxiety building. Luckily, he and Isaac switched places so he could to mix the drinks. Scott talked to Isaac for a while, then told Stiles if he was up for Call of Duty later to just text him. Stiles nodded, telling him that he would.

He got into his Jeep at quarter after nine, after he and Isaac locked up for the night. He texted Derek with _I’m out._ then started his Jeep, heading for the grocery store before they closed. With milk in hand, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. Derek was calling him. Awesome. 

“Yeah?” He answered, going to the self checkout lane. 

“Last night when you had to leave, was it your dad calling you about a curfew?” Derek asked. Stiles made a face, stomping his foot once, shaking his head. 

“Yes,” he answered through gritted teeth. He heard Derek sigh on the other end. “Listen, I know this is-”

“This can’t happen, Stiles.” Derek whispered. Stiles fed dollar bills into the machine, switching ears so that he could cradle the phone between his shoulder and cheek. 

“That isn’t fair.” 

“You’re seventeen.”

“I’ll be eighteen in October.” Stiles counteracted. Stiles swore he heard Derek growl. “So, what? Chinese food and horror films meant nothing? We’ll just pretend, I don’t know, that-”

“Stop there, please.” Derek pleaded. Stiles did stop, he stopped because Derek sounded just as upset as he felt. “I think we need to take a step back.” 

“And what? Reevaluate the situation when I turn eighteen?” Stiles asked, shoving the milk in a bag and walking out to his car. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Derek leaning on his car in the parking lot. “Are you stalking me?” Stiles asked. 

“What?” Derek asked. 

“You’re in the parking lot, right now.” Stiles said, walking over and hanging up. Derek looked uncomfortable. “Are you telling me you didn’t know I was here?” Stiles asked. 

“No, Stiles, I didn’t know,” Derek said, sighing as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Probably to keep from touching Stiles, which made Stiles take a step forward. “This can’t happen.” Derek reiterated. 

“I know, you said that already,” Stiles said, his jaw clenched. His heart was beating fast, so fast, because everything was crashing around him. How come he only got two days of happiness? Why only two? What did he do in a past life that only got him two days? 

“It doesn’t make it any less true.” 

“Is your only defense my age, here?” Stiles asked, shrugging his shoulders. “Because if that is the only reason-”

“It is a really, really fucking good reason, Stiles. I am ten years older than you, ten. I’m not just out of college. You weren't even born when Kurt Cobain died.” 

“I was born in 1994.” 

“Yeah, in October. He died in April.” Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“That is irrelevant.” 

“Maybe to you it is,” Derek said, pushing himself off of his car. “To me it just makes me feel old.” Stiles stood his ground. 

“Maybe-”

“No.” 

“Would you shut up for a second?” Stiles said, raising his voice. He took a step forward, again, and leaned in. Half of him expected Derek to push him away, while the other hoped that he wouldn’t. Derek did not push him away, though. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Stiles, putting a hand to his neck. Stiles moaned, he really needed to let Derek know that was his weakness, seriously. 

Stiles broke the kiss, though, as much as he didn’t want to. “I’ve got to get home,” he whispered against Derek’s cheek. “Some dick teacher gave me homework on the first day of class.” 

Derek laughed, his grip loosening on Stiles, his hand dropping from Stiles’ neck. 

“I deserved that.” 

“Who assigns a practice essay? Seriously?” Stiles asked, shoving Derek a little. “You slay me.” 

“Noted,” Derek said, unable to hold back a smile. Stiles backed away slowly, getting his keys out of his pocket. “By the way,” Derek motioned between them, “this is still not happening.” 

Stiles laughed. 

“Yeah, whatever you say Derek.” 

Stiles got home with ten minutes to spare. He put the milk in the fridge, did the dishes, and put in a load of laundry before he knocked on his dad’s door. 

“I heard you come in,” He said from where he was laying down in bed, watching TV. “How was your day?”

“Long, school is dumb. I am thinking about dropping out,” Stiles joked. “I did the dishes, and started some laundry. I’ve got a ton of homework,” he yawned, covering his mouth as he sat on the edge of his dad’s bed, on his mother’s side. Stiles put a hand down, leaning on it. “My English teacher decided to give us a practice essay prompt.” 

“Sounds like that class is going to kick your ass.” 

“That and Calc, yeah,” Stiles muttered. “I’ve got like, two pages of problems to hand in tomorrow. What do these teachers think, that we have tons of time?” 

“You’re a good kid, Stiles,” The Sheriff said, sighing. “I’ll finish the laundry tonight, you get your work done.” Stiles smiled, getting off the bed and heading towards the door.

“Thanks, dad.” 

Stiles did the Calc problems first, then turned on his computer to do the English assignment. 

“Writers often highlight the values of a culture or a society by using characters who are alienated from that culture or society because of gender, race, class, or creed. Choose a novel or a play in which such a character plays a significant role and show how that character's alienation reveals the surrounding society's assumptions or moral values.” Stiles grumbled, knowing that almost everyone would think about _The Scarlet Letter_ as an obvious choice. He didn’t want to be obvious. 

_Your essay prompt blows._ Stiles texted to Derek. He tapped his foot to the beat of the music he was playing, a pandora station, as he waited. 

_You aren’t allowed to do it on The Scarlet Letter_ was Derek’s response. Stiles made a face at his phone. 

_Wasn’t going to but now I am just to spite you._

Stiles picked up his copy of _A Separate Peace_ , flipping through the passages that he had highlighted. Derek didn’t respond again, but it didn’t matter, he had an essay to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9.4k in two days? don't mind if I do! /brainmelts


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles felt like his life was like a broken record. He woke up, he went to school, he went to work, he hung out with Scott, he did homework, then went to sleep just to do it all over again. Rinse and repeat, everyday. Before he knew it, the first week of school was over. He spent his first Friday night as a senior at home, with his dad, watching The Fifth Element because that was the greatest movie known to mankind and he rarely spent time with his dad. Scott had gone to some party where he could follow around Allison like a lost puppy and normally Stiles would have been all for going just to watch that but he just wasn’t in the mood. 

Derek continued wearing his glasses and vests, drinking coffee during class and Stiles continued sitting in the front despite him loathing front seats. He mainly sat in the front so no one could see his face as he looked at Derek, or taunted him. He was taunting his English teacher, mostly subconsciously though. 

Derek texted him Wednesday night, telling him he needed to stop with the oral fixation shit and Stiles had been confused. 

_What oral fixation shit?_ he asked, because what the fuck? 

_If you put your pen in your mouth one more time..._ Stiles burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand at the sheer shock of learning that his idiosyncrasies were turning Derek on. 

_Stop staring at me, then._ he responded, biting his lip as he waited for a response. He had been doing Econ homework and desperately wanted a distraction. 

_Stop sitting in the front, then._

Well, then. Challenge accepted. 

Thursday morning, Stiles sat in the back, in the corner. He slumped down in his chair, his legs spread wide as he tapped his foot against the floor. His pen was most definitely in his mouth, and it stayed there the entire class, much to the chagrin of Derek who was trying his best not to look atStiles. 

Stiles being in the back made it very obvious whenever Derek glanced at him, and he did it a lot. Stiles smirked. 

After The Fifth Element, Stiles had gone to bed, because his four am wake up call for Saturday seemed so early, so early since he got to sleep in for school. Which was messed up, if you thought about it. He was in bed, almost asleep when his phone buzzed.  
“Scottttttt,” Stiles whined, reaching for his phone, grumpy because he had been in that half dream state where he had thought he was asleep. He looked at his phone, expecting a text from Scott telling Stiles all about how pretty Allison looked in blah blah dress that she was wearing but it wasn’t. It was Derek. 

Suddenly, Stiles was very awake. 

_You are an earworm, like a song I can’t get out of my head._ Stiles didn’t think that text should make him as happy as it did. He was getting under Derek’s skin, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Ha. 

_I hope it is like a good song, and not one you hate._ Stiles expected a text back, so he waited, holding his phone in his hand as he made himself comfortable on his side. He jumped when his phone rang, though. Derek was calling him. Oh, fuck. 

“I was not expecting you to call,” was how Stiles chose to answer the phone as he rubbed his head, his fingers trailing down, scratching his neck. 

“You aren’t at the first party of the year?” Derek asked. Stiles heard rustling, as if Derek was in bed. That thought alone had all the blood in his body rushing south. He swallowed, rolling onto his back. 

“I’ve got work, I don’t plan on a repeat of the rave any time soon.” 

“I don’t know about you, but I had fun at the rave.” That was not fair, not fair at all. 

“You know I was talking about the whole not sleeping then having to work, and not the whole... in your car thing.” Oh, god just thinking about it had him worked up. Stiles pressed his palm against his boxers, wishing his body to calm the fuck down. Fucking teenage hormones. “But if you want to talk about us in your car, I am totally all for that too.” Derek sighed. “You called me, you know.”

“I know, Stiles.” 

“You’re a tease.”

“How? How am I being a tease?” 

“You and your texting that I am like a song that is stuck in your head is like, I don’t know. It is asking for me to respond in some way where it gives me hope and then you are just going to shoot me down again about how nothing can happen and if you didn’t want something to happen then you wouldn’t have called me at 11:32 at night.” Stiles took a deep breath and waited for a response. 

“You’re right, I didn’t need to call you, or text you. Do you want me to stop?” Stiles shook his head. 

“No, I don’t,” he whispered, rolling his eyes at himself. “But this still isn’t happening, is it?” 

“No, it isn’t.” 

“And here I was hoping you were calling so we could have phone sex,” Stiles rambled out. Derek laughed. 

“Ah, well. No, I don’t think that is wise.” 

“If this was happening, though, you’d be all for that,” Stiles said, his hand drawing circles on his stomach, because Derek’s voice was doing things to him, and Derek didn’t have to know what kind of reaction Stiles’ body was having to this conversation. 

“But it’s not, so it doesn’t matter what I would do if it was happening.” Stiles bit his lip as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of his boxers, as he gripped himself, stroking slowly. He closed his eyes, thinking about Derek over him. 

“Nope, definitely not happening,” Stiles managed to get out in a somewhat coherent manner. Derek let out a shuddering sigh.

“Stiles, I know what you’re doing.” Stiles laughed, rolling his hips against his hand, picking up speed and letting out a moan. 

“And you’re still on the phone,” he gasped. That was when he heard it, he heard Derek moan. Stiles groaned, warmth flooding his body at the sound of Derek reacting to him, probably with his own hand around him. “I want you so bad,” Stiles admitted, his looming climax clouding his judgement. He wanted it, needed it. Derek was breathing into the receiver, causing Stiles to arch his back, wishing Derek had his hands on him. 

“Stiles, I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.” Stiles whimpered, biting down on his bottom lip, hard to keep from coming at the sound of Derek’s raspy voice, shot from pleasure. Derek was definitely jacking off to Stiles, and Stiles definitely wanted him to. 

“If you were here right now I’d-” 

“God, dammit Stiles,” Derek murmured and Stiles knew, he knew that Derek just came and that sent him over the edge, making a mess on his hand and chest. He laughed through his orgasm, sighing as he caught his breath. He reached up behind him, grabbing a couple of tissues to clean it up. 

“Good thing this isn’t happening,” Stiles teased. Derek growled low in his throat. “Because if it was, I’d tell you that I just made you come before me.” 

“Good night, Stiles.” Derek grumbled.

Saturday flew by, what with work and then an afternoon conditioning practice for lacrosse. The season wasn’t until the spring, but they had to keep in shape, and had what the coach called ‘conditioning practices’ where the first line basically tackled Stiles at every opportunity. They also ran, lifted weights, and other annoying shit that had nothing to do with lacrosse whatsoever. Stiles hated conditioning practices. 

Afterwards, he showered and waited for Scott to come over. His dad had an overnight shift and gave Stiles permission for Scott to spend the night, aka stay up late and play video games. Seriously, Stiles lead a high profile life. Party on, Garth. 

Sunday was Stiles’ day off. He slept in, did chores, played even more video games (because why the fuck not?), and made it halfway through the afternoon before he gave in to temptation and texted Derek. 

Derek didn’t text back. Well, not immediately. Stiles glared at his phone, angry at his own weakness at being the one to break radio silence since _that night_. He grudgingly did his homework, which included another fucking practice essay. 

Stiles finished around dinner time, so he decided to bring something to his dad at the station. Sandwiches from his dad’s favorite sub shop from across town. He carried them in, surprised to see his father standing there talking with Derek about something. What the every loving-  
“Ah, there’s my boy with dinner,” his dad said with a smile. Okay, something was up, something was most definitely up. Derek turned around to look at Stiles, his jaw set tight. Oh, shit. That wasn’t a happy look. Nope. “Derek, this is my son, Stiles. Well, that isn’t his name but that is what he likes to be called.” Yes, dad, thanks for explaining. 

“Yes, actually, he is in one of my classes.” Oh sure, go ahead and tell the Sheriff that little tidbit. Sheriff Stilinski? Meet Derek, Mr. Hale, who I just had phone sex with the other night but who ignored my text. “How do you say your first name?” Derek asked, smiling. Stiles frowned, biting his tongue so he wouldn’t say something he would regret. 

“Stiles is fine.”

“Stiles, if you just head on into my office, I’ll join you in a bit,” his dad said, dismissing him. Stiles side eyed them both as he walked by, sitting down in his dad’s desk chair so that he could see out into the hallway, watch them. Derek was facing him, with his dad’s back to him. Every once in awhile Derek looked at him, but his glance was never for long. They were discussing something, but Stiles couldn’t make it out. He hated when he couldn’t eavesdrop. 

By the time Derek left, Stiles had finished his sandwich and was sipping slowly at his drink. His dad raised an eyebrow at him with his hands on his hips as Stiles realized he was sitting in his dad’s chair. He raised his back, swiveling the chair a bit with his feet. The Sheriff sighed audibly, then sat in one of the other chairs, pulling it close to the desk so he could eat. 

“What was that about?” Stiles asked, seeing if his dad would tell him. 

“You know I can’t discuss that with you,” he said between bites. Stiles rolled his eyes, twirling the chair around slowly by moving his feet around as he slumped down in the chair. “What are you doing the rest of the day?” Stiles shrugged. 

“I’ll probably call Scott, why?” 

“Derek- Mr. Hale was asking if he knew anyone who was looking to earn a few extra bucks to help clean up his old family’s estate.” 

“Estate?” Stiles asked, sitting up straighter. His dad nodded. 

“Yeah, the Hale’s used to live right outside of town, the house has been abandoned for years now, he wants to clean it up.” 

“I could help,” Stiles said, smiling. 

“With what time?” His dad asked, shaking his head. “You’ve practically got a full time job already.” 

“Money is money, dad.” Stiles said, taking another sip of his drink. “Come on.” 

“Maybe you and Scott could help him out, Scott doesn’t get a lot of hours at the vets.” Stiles nodded, agreeing with his dad, even though he didn’t want Scott around when he had a way to be around Derek outside of school. Stiles bit his lip, standing. 

“Well, I am going to go bother Scott and Mrs. McCall for a bit.” 

“If she is sleeping, you two go over to our house. She works a lot of nights.” The Sheriff called out as Stiles walked out of the station. He pulled out his phone and dialed Derek’s number as he got into his Jeep. 

“Stiles-”

“Guess who is your new little helper?” Stiles asked, smirking. 

“No. Absolutely not.” Stiles made a face. 

“Ah, ha you’re funny. No, I am helping.” 

“I am going to hire a crew, Stiles.” 

“I can paint shit, and bring you coffee.... and blow you.” 

“Stiles, no.” Derek said, sighing. Stiles bounced in his seat, he liked getting under Derek’s skin, it was fun. 

“You are not fun.” 

“I don’t want to lose my job, Stiles. You didn’t tell me you were the Sheriff’s son.” Stiles’ gut sank. Shit, shit, shit. 

“No one will know, you’re hiring me. I have a legit reason to be around you outside of school now.” Derek sighed, and Stiles knew he had won. “So where is this place? When do you need me?” 

“I need you now, but that is besides the point.” 

“Oh, cheeky. You’re cheeky.” Stiles hated this mother fucking light so much he wanted to run into it so it would be no more. That would show it. God, dammit-

“What are you doing tonight?” Derek asked. 

“Uh-” Stiles thought as he glared at the unchanging light. “Jacking off, a lot.” Derek grunted. “Unless you want to remedy-”

“No, Stiles.” 

“Then yeah that is all I got on my list. May play Mass Effect, or Portal. I am open and _flexible_.” 

“I am hanging up, now.” Stiles groaned at Derek. 

“You are seriously no fun at all, you know that?” 

“Oh, I know it, believe me. I will see you in class tomorrow.” Stiles flat out whined, which surprised him. Petulance be damned. But then again, Derek was still on the line. “What do you want, Stiles?” 

“Well, you for one.” Derek started to say something but Stiles interrupted him, because he was a needy bastard apparently. “But if not that, then can we just like, not have a shit ton of homework this week so I can come over to your mansion and paint you- I mean, walls. Come paint walls.” Stiles laughed at himself, gnawing on his bottom lip as he pulled into his driveway. 

“You seriously told your dad you wanted to help?”

“Fuck yeah I did,” Stiles said, unlocking the front door then heading upstairs. “So I am coming over, some time. Whenever, but right now I am going to shower.”

“Why would you tell me you are going to shower?”

“So you’d think about me naked, obviously,” Stiles said nonchalantly.

“Hard to do that since I haven’t really seen you naked.”

“Well whose fault was that?”

“Yours, you left because you missed curfew.” Derek was laughing, he was actually laughing. This was such bullshit. Stiles grumbled. “You shower, I’m going to rethink this week’s homework assignments.” 

“Are you serious?” Stiles asked, shocked. 

“No, I am not changing your workload just so we can be alone together, if you are coming and helping you actually have to help.” Stiles sighed, making a face at himself in the mirror. “And you aren’t painting me.”

“That was a slip of the tongue,” Stiles said, laughing afterwards. Everything he was saying sounded like his mind was in the gutter. It was, but that was beside the point. 

“Good night, Stiles.” 

Stiles stayed after class the next day, for legitimate reasons. House reasons. Derek was sitting at his desk, waiting for everyone to file out of the room. He was wearing a plain dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, and a tie that Stiles really, really wanted to yank. He decided that giving his bookbag the death grip was safer for all parties involved. 

“You and ties is just not fucking fair,” Stiles blurted out, because no one else was in the room. Derek looked up at him, obviously holding back a smirk as he tilted his head, looking Stiles up and down for a second. 

“Like you don’t have that effect on me?” Derek asked. Stiles placed his palm on Derek’s desk, leaning forward slightly. 

“When are we cleaning your house?” 

“When do you work?” Derek asked, shifting in his seat, his foot resting on the floor right next to Stiles’. Stiles closed his eyes briefly, opening them when he felt Derek’s fingers on his, ghosting over his skin. Stiles licked his lips. 

“Today until nine, tomorrow, uh” Stiles swallowed, not really being able to think, “tomorrow I’m off.” Derek pulled his hand away and sat up straight, clearing his throat because students were walking in for the next class. 

“Tomorrow after school, then,” Derek said, not looking at Stiles. Stiles nodded, then made his way to his next class. Once he sat down, he realized that being alone with Derek maybe wasn’t the best plan of action, since this definitely wasn’t happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot thank you guys enough for the comments. Seriously, you have no idea how much they mean and make me wish I could WRITE FASTER for you!


	5. Chapter 5

Sometimes things just don’t work out how you expect them to. 

Like Stiles thinking that he would get to spend time with Derek, alone. Derek had given him directions to the house that they would be working on, which was basically in the middle of fucking nowhere, and Stiles was very surprised to find multiple cars there. One of which was Scott’s. 

What the fuck. 

Stiles walked in to find Derek talking to some sort of construction worker. At least that was what Stiles guessed he was because he was wearing a hard hat. Jesus, they were going to be wearing hard hats? Derek saw Stiles and smiled, holding out his hand as if saying ‘hold in a second’, so Stiles stood there like an idiot. At least, he felt like an idiot as he stood there pouting because he had wanted alone time with Derek, of which he was going to have none of. This was some bullshit.

When Derek was done, he walked over to Stiles and failed at holding back a smile, which totally made Stiles feel better and less like an idiot.

“Scott is upstairs sanding a wall-”

“What is he doing here?” Stiles asked, rather defensively considering Scott was his best friend. Derek actually chuckled at him, cute. Real cute. 

“Your father gave me his number, said you two were inseparable.” Thwarted by the Sheriff, awesome. 

“But he has asthma-” Stiles said, a bit worried about Scott ingesting that much dust. 

“We have masks,” Derek answered, crossing his arms. Oh god he was wearing a wife beater and his muscles were just right there and Stiles wanted to fucking jump him but there were people everywhere why the fuck were there people everywhere? Jesus. “I want you to wear one too.” 

“Alright,” Stiles whispered, because that was all he was able to manage. Derek lead Stiles upstairs with his hand on Stiles’ back which, you know, could look normal to any other human being, but Stiles felt like it was foreplay. He melted against it, realizing that they hadn’t really physically touched since the day before school started. He shuddered, stopping at the top of the stairs and turning to face him. Derek stopped him, putting both hands on Stiles’ shoulders and steering him into the room that Scott was in. 

“No, Stiles,” Derek said into his ear, which was not at all helpful. “Look who I found!” He called out to Scott. Scott waved and started talking from beneath the dust mask at an alarming rate, Stiles wasn’t exactly sure what was happening but suddenly Derek handed him off to Scott and said something about Scott explaining what they were doing. Derek fucking left him there. 

Around 7:30, Derek came in, letting them know that pizza had been acquired. They ate outside, at a gazebo that was a little worse for wear. The pizza was fucking amazing after manual labor. Stiles was pretty sure he would have to shower five times before he got all of the dust off of him. After dinner they moved downstairs and started cleaning. It was filthy, dust and grime covered everything. Stiles asked why the room upstairs looked better than the rest and Derek told him that it had been his sister’s room, and that he had started there, alone, and wanted it done first. He didn’t supply any other information and Stiles didn’t probe for more, it wouldn’t really make sense because there was nothing between them on the surface. 

There would be no reason for him to care in the eyes of anyone else. 

Derek was in the same room as them, scrubbing down walls. Stiles had to basically rip his eyes from him in order to work on the baseboards with murphy’s oil soap. On his hands and knees, he attempted to wipe them clean. Elbow grease and patience were key, both of which he didn’t have. 

“Hey Dere- Mr. Hale?” Stiles asked, getting Derek’s attention. Derek looked over to him, his eyes going from Stiles’ face to his ass, since he was bent over on his knees. Oh. 

Oh, fuck yes, good plan. Derek waited for Stiles to continue. Stiles didn’t move, but bit his bottom lip instead. Derek glared at him, almost about to go back to scrubbing his wall. He was covered in sweat and dust and Stiles just wanted to-

“I think that this board is rotted.” Derek walked over and bent down next to him, his body a little too close. Stiles held his breath as Derek leaned his face close to Stiles’ ear. 

“Then how about you help me with the walls?” He suggested, whispering into Stiles’ ear. Stiles gulped, nodding his head. 

“Alright.” 

Then, Derek decided that taking his shirt off needed to happen. Everything went downhill from there, really. More like Stiles’ attention span was completely shot. He had to excuse himself for a very, very long trip to the bathroom. Fucking. Teenage. Hormones. When he walked out of the bathroom, Derek was standing there, leaning against the wall nearest the door. He had his shirt back on. Stiles couldn’t even look him in the eye. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Derek said. “I didn’t think about it. I was hot.” Stiles shrugged. 

“Not your fault I get hard at the drop of a dime,” he whispered, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Derek raked his teeth across his bottom lip. Stiles shut his eyes, sighing. “This is a bit not good.” 

“Just a bit, yeah.”

“How long are we working today?” Stiles asked. 

“You can go home whenever you like,” Derek said, keeping his voice low. Stiles shook his head. 

“I don’t want to go home.” 

“Stiles-”

“Can’t we just-”

“No. This was a mistake, there is too much tension. Being near you his hard, do you get that?” Stiles nodded, looking away from him. He got that. “Calling you was a mistake, texting is a mis-”

“Stop, stop,” Stiles begged. “Don’t take everything away from me.” He was dead serious, his shoulders sagging. Derek stared at him, looking defeated. He motioned with his head for Stiles to follow him and Stiles did just that. They walked down the hall and into a bedroom on the left. Derek shut the door behind him and Stiles thought for a second that he was going to ram him up against the door right then and there but he didn’t. He didn’t do it. 

“This has to stop, Stiles.” 

“Can’t you just kiss me?” 

“No.” 

“But you want to-”

“That is beside point, just because I want to doesn’t mean that I should,” Derek said as he ran fingers through his hair, exasperated. Stiles took a step forward, but Derek but his hand up, denying him. “You can come work on the house, if you stopped after one day that would look weird. Use it to hang out with your best friend,” Stiles nodded, unable to stop from gnawing on his bottom lip. He didn’t like where this was going. “We are not texting, we are not calling each other, and we are not, let me repeat this, we _are not_ hooking up.” 

“This is such shit-”

“The Sheriff’s son, Stiles.” Stiles growled. “Don’t fight me on this.” l  
When Stiles got home, he showered until the water went cold. It didn’t matter how much he scrubbed, he still felt dirty. He dismissed all of his homework, foregoing it for Fatal Frame. He needed a distraction and scaring the shit out of himself was good enough for now. He passed out in his dad’s chair with the game and all the lights still on. His father shook him awake when he came in at four in the morning.

“Come on, buddy,” he whispered, pulling Stiles to his feet and leading him upstairs. His dad had turned off the tv, the console, and all of the lights except for the one leading up the stairs. He must have known something had Stiles down, because he didn’t reprimand him for wasting electricity, or staying up late. Stiles felt like when he was little, when his dad would pick him up and he would put his head on his dad’s shoulder as he brought him upstairs, too tired to climb the stairs himself. He fell into bed, letting his dad cover him with his sheets. “Rough day?” He asked. Stiles nodded, sniffing back his feelings. He couldn’t help it. In the back of his mind he thought that, deep down, Derek would give in. He was wrong, and it hurt. 

It hurt so much. 

“Did something happen at the Hale’s house?” He asked, his hand rubbing Stiles’ back. It had been years since he had sat at the edge of Stiles’ bed. Not since- 

Stiles sniffed again, shaking his head no. 

“It’s just a lot of stuff piling up,” Stiles managed to get out. 

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Stiles nodded, burying his head in his pillow. He could, but not about this. This, Derek would lose his job over. Stiles sighed, closing his eyes. Eventually his dad stood and shut his door. Stiles heard him walk down the hall and eventually shut his own door. It took him an hour to fall back asleep, his mind wouldn’t turn off. 

The rest of the week flew by. School, ignore Derek in class, work, Scott time, homework, sleep. Repeat. It worked well until Friday, when Derek- Mr. Hale asked him to stay after. Stiles, his jaw set, did so begrudgingly. With his hands shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie, he sighed as he stood in front of Derek’s desk. 

“You haven’t turned in a single homework assignment all week,” Derek stated. Stiles answered with silence. Derek sighed audibly, obviously frustrated. “You cannot act out by not doing work, Stiles. It doesn’t work like that.” Nope, not talking. Not saying anything. Shove it. Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, standing. “If you don’t bring in those assignments by Monday, they will be zeros.” 

Stiles stared at him, his face stoic.He shrugged in response. He got points for this being the longest conversation that he had no part in. Silence for the mother fucking win. It was agitating Derek, which surprisingly didn’t make Stiles feel any better. He just couldn’t win. 

“Stiles-”

“Alright, fine,” Stiles snapped. “Monday. Got it. Can I go?” He asked, looking down at his own shoes because really, Derek’s face was a little too much. Vests and glasses and sleeves rolled up. Fuck him. 

“You may.” 

Stiles stormed out of the room, his heart beating fast. He was angry. Angry at himself for thinking that for once he could be happy. He should have stuck with his crush on Lydia. At least with that he knew it wouldn’t happen. With Derek it had happened, and it was taken away. It felt a million times worse.

He slept most of the weekend away, went to the movies with Scott, went to stupid conditioning practice, worked, and did his fucking English homework. He handed it in without a word before the bell rang, in a pile stapled together. Every practice essay he somehow twisted the prompt into betrayal and heartbreak. Because he was evil and he wanted Derek upset. He wanted him upset like he was upset. Derek was so stoic, so closed off. He wanted to get a reaction out of him. He wanted something. 

“Today in class we are going to discuss _A Farewell to Arms_ which you should have finished by today.” Groans filled the room, Stiles included. Stupid, fucking Hemingway and his refusal to say who was speaking and not describing shit and- “Everyone take out your books, I have a few quotations that I would like to point out.” 

Stiles didn’t have his book. He didn’t bring it. It was at home, on his desk, sitting there haunting him. He sat in silence, looking at his hands, hoping that Derek didn’t look up, didn’t look at him. He had no reason to look at hi-

“Mr. Stilinski, where is your book?” Such an asshole. Derek was a fucking asshole. 

“I don’t have it with me,” Stiles said truthfully, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Left it at home.” 

“Did you read it?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, looking down at his hands. Being under scrutiny in front of the whole class was different than being alone in a room with Derek. He didn’t like it. “What were your thoughts?” Stiles sighed, licking his lips as he thought for a moment.

“I thought that the theme of stoicism that was throughout the novel was complete crap,” Stiles started, taking a deep breath before continuing in order to keep his voice from fluctuating. “He distances himself from feeling things like honor and then he pledges love to a woman he barely knows. And yeah, so they both use each other as a distraction and it gets kind of messed up there for a while, but it kind of works too.” He takes a breath, noticing that Derek is watching him intently from the front of the room . “I think that if Henry would have showed his emotions then things would have turned out differently. He should have allowed himself to _feel_ everything instead of trying to hide them. What is the point of humanity if we can’t express feelings, our emotions?”

“He did express his emotions,” Derek cut in, leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. “Didn’t you see that Henry couldn’t bear to be away from Catherine?” Stiles smiles bitterly then shrugged.

“I guess. But what does it teach us? That nothing lasts. She and the baby die, and Henry just leaves and goes back to his hotel, alone. Again. Nothing lasts. People die,” Stiles’ voice cracks over the word 'die' because he couldn’t help but think of his mother, and how she wasn’t here anymore and his dad is alone because nothing ever fucking lasts. Stiles stares at Derek and kind of deflates. “Maybe Henry just wanted something good in his life for once even if it did cause him problems,” he finished in a whisper with his eyes focused on his hands. 

“You do realize you switched sides on that argument, right?” Lydia pointed out from across the room. Stiles didn’t look up for the rest of the class, tuning out the discussion. He covered his eyes with his hand briefly, hoping that his emotions weren’t plastered across his face. 

Friday night there was a party and Scott really wanted to go. He practically begged to, so Stiles gave in. He told his dad that he was spending the night at Scott’s, because it was true. He just didn’t tell him that he was also going to a party. Whatever. He wanted to get drunk, and that was the only way he had access to alcohol that wasn’t his dad’s. And his dad would notice if half of his Jim Beam went missing. He had to work in the morning, but he didn’t care. He could sleep when he got off work, before he was due to go to Derek’s. To work. 

It made him drink more, thinking about being around Derek. Yeah, he went and Derek always had him working on something in a different room than him, always with Scott but that wasn’t the point. It didn’t help him, any. He was in Derek’s house, near him. They didn’t talk, really. Derek talked to Scott, which made Stiles feel worse. 

That was not how he wanted to spend his Saturday. 

So, drinking. Drinking was good. Alcohol made him warm, made him feel fuzzy. Dulled his feelings by playing beer pong and flip cup. He was awesome at flip cup, the master. His team one three times in a row, actually. Then he needed to sit down, because beer. A lot of beer. The room spun, which was new, but Stiles ignored it. Scott was off, semi talking to Allison, which wasn’t new at all. Before Stiles knew it, his phone was out in his hand and he didn’t even blink before he called Derek. 

It wasn’t until Derek picked up that Stiles even realized what he had done. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked, his voice gravely from sleep. Stiles had no idea what time it was, at all. For all he knew, it was only eleven. Or it could be three in the morning? He didn’t know. 

“You know, no. Nope. Nevermind.” 

“Are you drunk?” Derek asked, and Stiles heard rustling. 

“Yeah, definitely. Very. Flip cup.” Derek sighed into the receiver. 

“Do you need a ride home?” Derek asked, as if he cared. Stiles made a face. 

“No, I only take rides from people who care,” he said, pouting as he looked at his empty cup. “I don’t have any more beer in my cup.”

“You probably don’t need more.” 

“How- why am I on the phone?” Stiles asked.

“You called me.” Stiles laughed.

“You know, you know what?” Stiles asked, picking at the couch absentmindedly. He didn’t wait for a response from Derek before continuing on, though “I think that this is bullshit-”

“Stiles, don’t-”

“I’m a consenting fucking adult, okay? If I can drink I think I can decide for myself if I want to be fucked-”

“Where is the party, Stiles?” Derek asked, his voice stern.

“My pants.” Derek was quiet for a moment, waiting for the real answer. “Lydia’s.” 

“I’m coming, wait for me outside.” Derek hung up and Stiles sat there, staring at his phone for a moment before it dawned on him: Derek was coming to get him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to lsdme who helped me with _A Farewell to Arms_ and Stiles' speech. Guh, that boy.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles sat at the side of the curb, his chin on his knees as he looked down at his shoes, waiting. He waited. Scott was inside, with Allison. They were kissing and it hurt. It hurt because Scott got to kiss who he liked and Stiles didn’t. He should be happy that Scott was kissing Allison but he just couldn’t find it in him in his inebriated state. When he saw Derek’s camaro pull forward he brushed his lips against his jeans, swallowing. This was too much, all too much. Derek got out of the car, which surprised Stiles. He was out in the open, helping Stiles up and bringing him over to his car. 

“Come on,” he urged. Stiles complied, his mouth open as Derek opened the passenger door for him. 

“Scott is kissing Allison,” Stiles said as he was placed in the car. He waited for Derek to get back in before he continued on, “he is kissing her and I was there, you know, and my cup was empty and there was a couch-” 

“Stiles, put your seatbelt on.” Stiles sat, unmoving. Derek sighed, leaning over and grabbing the seatbelt himself, buckling Stiles in. Stiles grunted, but said nothing. Actually, he stayed silent the entire car ride. Thoughts rolled through his mind, all about Derek, but he said none of them. Apparently somehow a word filter had been turned on without him realizing it. “Want me to drop you off at home?” 

“No, oh god no,” Stiles said, reaching forward and putting his hands on the dashboard. 

“Why?” Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes wide. 

“Because I am smashed and I am supposed to be spending the night at Scott’s and my dad doesn’t know I was at a party.” 

“Jesus,” Derek said, sighing. “Fine, alright.” 

Derek took Stiles to his apartment. If Stiles wasn’t so drunk he would have done some sort of congratulatory dance but... drunk. Very drunk. Sitting did not help. 

 

“What time is it?” Stiles asked as Derek helped him into his apartment. 

“It’s only one,” Derek said as if Stiles hadn’t woken him up when he drunk dialed him. But he totally had. Derek was in a plain white shirt, sweat pants, and was wearing his glasses. Stiles wanted to bite him. Instead, he plopped down on the couch where Derek wanted him to go. 

“I’ve got work at five,” Stiles whined. “My car is at Lydia’s.” 

“We’ll deal with it in the morning, drink this and take these.” Derek handed Stiles a tall glass of water and two ibuprofen. Stiles did as he was told, halfway through the glass of water he stopped drinking, though. “Drink all of it, now.” Once Stiles was done, Derek refilled it and reached his hand out for Stiles to take. 

Derek pulled him to his feet. 

“Where are we going?” Stiles asked, looking at his hand in Derek’s. 

“Bed, come on.” Bed, Derek’s bed. He was going in Derek’s bed? Derek put the glass of water by the side of the bed, on a night stand. He pulled down the covers, then put his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, pushing him so that he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Sleep, or you’ll regret it in the morning. And drink that first,” he said, pointing at the glass of water. Stiles drank the water, all of it, then stood up and took his jeans off, well, he tried. He forgot he had shoes on and sort of fell then took his shoes off as he laid on the ground, then he took his jeans off. “Stiles, what are you doing?” Derek asked, already in bed. 

“Fucking, jeans.” 

Stiles climbed into the bed, taking his hoodie off and tossing it to the ground so that he would be more comfortable. His head hit the pillow, then he sighed. 

“Derek-”

“Hmm?” Derek asked as he turned the light off from his nightstand. Stiles swallowed, scared about what he might say and what Derek might respond with. 

“This still isn’t happening?” He asked. His voice wavered, but he blamed the alcohol. So much alcohol. Derek shifted, turning towards Stiles in the bed. “Because this” he said, making a hand motion between them, “this, I want-” Derek placed a hand on Stiles’ chest, his thumb tapping gently against his shirt. 

“You need to go to sleep,” Derek whispered. “You are drunk, and if this is happening? It won’t be when you are smashed.” Stiles bit his lip, willing himself not to be drunk. He didn’t want to be drunk anymore, for fuck’s sake. He wanted to be sober because he was in bed with Derek and he had his hand on him and he just really wanted to be sober and the room was spinning and everything was hard. He swallowed, nodding. He reached up, though, and intertwined his fingers with Derek’s, holding his hand. Derek didn’t pull away, like Stiles was afraid he might do. No, he squeezed Stiles’ hand and sighed audibly, defeated. 

Derek’s alarm was loud, and annoying. So fucking annoying because holy shit that is a mother fucking headache. Dead, dying. Stiles was dying. He refused to open his eyes but then he remembered where he was. He was in Derek’s bed. Derek shifted, turning the alarm off but otherwise he didn’t move, not yet. Stiles opened his eyes slowly, realizing that his face was buried against Derek’s shoulder, that Derek had his arm around Stiles and that Stiles had a leg draped over- 

Oh, he was comfortable. He didn’t want to move, so he didn’t. He stayed there, feeling the rise and fall of Derek’s chest. His fingers gripped Derek’s shirt as he shifted slightly, pulling in closer because Derek wasn’t pushing him away. 

“You should shower before work,” Derek whispered. Stiles groaned. “You smell like a party.” 

“I’m not moving.” 

“Yes, you are,” Derek said, getting up. Stiles moaned at the sudden loss of contact. “You shower, I’ll make toast and coffee.” 

With the promise of Derek making breakfast, Stiles stumbled into the bathroom. He showered, using Derek’s everything. He smelled like Derek. Jesus, he smelled just like Derek and his body reacted to it. Thank god he hadn’t woken up with morning wood or he would have been too embarrassed to move. He put his clothes back on, then set out trying to find a spare toothbrush. He opened the medicine cabinet and then the cupboards underneath the sink. His jaw dropped when he saw lube and condoms. Of course Derek would have them, but the sight of them had him just... horny. There was no other word for it. He wanted Derek so much and the fact that he had slept in his bed and that he now smelled like him was a little overwhelming. 

“Stiles, are you coming down?” Derek called from the kitchen. Stiles scrambled, shutting the cupboard, rinsing his mouth with mouthwash quickly since he didn’t find a toothbrush. 

“Sorry, I was... looking for a toothbrush,” he said as he sat down, his cheeks flushed. Derek looked at him, comprehension dawning on his face. 

“Oh, I’ll... I’ll get you one. They are in the hallway closet.” Derek walked away and Stiles gulped, eating his toast and drinking the coffee without moving. Derek appeared with a brand new toothbrush in his hand and put it down next to Stiles’ plate on the table. “If you hurry, we can go get your Jeep.” 

The car ride was silent, except for the radio. Somehow Stiles didn’t feel good about what had happened, about how he called Derek, how they slept in the same bed. Because Derek wasn’t looking at him, now. He wasn’t looking at him and wasn’t saying anything. Stiles’ Jeep was where he left it, thankfully. At least something was going right. Derek pulled up to it and Stiles opened the door. Before he got out, Derek grabbed hold of his hoodie, stilling him. 

“Are you coming to the house, later?” 

“Do you want me to?” Stiles asked. “I mean it, Derek. This is getting hard, too hard. I don’t think I can-”

“Yes, I want you to come.” Stiles felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders. 

“Are you going to banish me to a corner of the house where you’ll never set foot?” 

“No.” Stiles sat there, one hand on the half open door as Derek held onto him. “Shut the door.” Stiles did. Derek pulled on him, bringing him closer. Their lips crashed together, both moaning as their tongues touched, as they opened their mouths. Derek’s grip on his hoodie lessened as the kiss ended. “We’re going to work on the same room today.”

“Oh-okay,” Stiles stammered, getting out of the car. Derek drove off and Stiles jumped in the air in victory. He had slept in Derek’s bed, got a kiss, and had a semi-not-really-date in Derek’s childhood bedroom to look forward to. Things were looking up. 

He pulled up to the coffee shop with a few minutes to spare, thankfully, to find out that he wasn’t working with Isaac, but with Erica. He rarely worked with her, and his brows creased in confusion. 

“Someone looks a bit hungover,” she said, smirking. Stiles raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t go home last night, either.” 

“How’d you-”

“I was there, I saw how smashed you were. You just... disappeared.” Stiles shrugged, tying his apron. That was when he noticed his hands shaking a bit. 

“Shit,” he whispered. 

“What?” She asked, looking at him. “Did you forget to take something?” She asked. She would know what side effects to missing a dosage of something would look like, of course she would with how many pills she had to take. Stiles bit his lip, sighing. 

“Yeah, I didn’t go home.” 

“Do you need to go?” She asked. Stiles shook his head, ignoring the jittery feelings he was having. He didn’t take his dosage yesterday afternoon, either. That is two. Fuck a duck. He couldn’t call his dad, he would be livid that Stiles missed two doses in a row. 

“Nah, I’ll call Scott later and have him go get some for me.” 

And he did, around eleven. Scott showed up around noon with the entire bottle, which Stiles almost smacked him over the head for. His dad would definitely notice the medication missing and ask him about it but he wasn’t about to complain to Scott about it. He popped two, even though he knew he shouldn’t. His nerves were shot and he had coffee and his limbs currently had a mind of their own. He spent twenty minutes jumping around the shop for no reason even though he had a headache because he just couldn’t stop moving. He had talked Erica’s ear off and he was pretty sure she really didn’t care about how his campaign was going on his online game he was playing with strangers on the internet. 

Erica took her break as soon as Scott showed up. 

“Oh, thank god. You talk to him,” she said as she rushed out back. 

“Where’d you go last night?” Scott asked, leaning on the counter. Thankfully, there was a lull in business for the moment. Stiles shrugged. “Your car was still there when I left.” 

“Uh, I... called Derek.” Scott still didn’t know that his Derek was Mr. Hale Derek. Hopefully he wouldn’t put two and two together. 

“Oh? I thought you guys were done.” Thank god Scott was a dumbass. Stiles shrugged again. 

“I... drunk dialed him? I don’t know what is going on.” 

“Allison and I hooked up,” Scott said, changing the subject. Allison was definitely a safer subject to talk about, so Stiles let Scott tell him all about how he and Allison made out in her car and then she drove him home. 

“That’s awesome, Scotty,” Stiles said, meaning it. Scott had had a crush on her for how long? Since their sophomore year. All Stiles knew was that he only had two hours left and he was buzzing and his headache was fading and he was going to see Derek. “Are you going to Mr. Hale’s today?” 

“I can’t, I’m going into work in like, an hour.” Stiles looked Scott up and down. He was in sweats and a baseball cap. “Yeah, I know, I need to go change.” Stiles smiled, nodding his head. “But at least I changed from what I was wearing last night.” 

“Ha. ha.” Stiles said as Scott walked off. 

Two o’clock didn’t come soon enough. Stiles rushed home, putting his medication back where it normally lived, then ran upstairs to change clothes. He made it out to the old Hale house in record timing. Stiles was ready to work, he was even wearing an old shirt, covered in paint from when he and his dad painted the master bedroom of their house, and his oldest pair of jeans with holes in the knees. 

What Stiles wasn’t prepared for was the fact that no other cars were there, except for Derek’s. Oh, shit. He was not expecting that. The front door was open, so Stiles walked in without knocking. There was music playing upstairs that Stiles followed in order to find Derek. 

Derek was shirtless in what used to be his bedroom. It was freshly painted, the carpet ripped off the floor and thrown away. A new roll was waiting to be put down. Stiles stood at the door, clearing his throat to get Derek’s attention. Derek turned, wiping his hands on his low riding jeans. Oh, god. 

“You came.” 

“Well, duh.” Derek walked over to Stiles, gripping the back of his neck. Stiles knew where things were headed, and closed his eyes for it. The kiss was electrifying. They walked out of Derek’s room until Derek had him pinned against the hallway wall, pushing him up the wall enough that he could wrap his legs around Derek’s waist. And he did. Oh, fuck yes he did. Derek gave in and there was no way he wasn’t going to go to town on him. Their kisses were messy, sloppy, and not all on the mouth. Their jaws, cheeks, and noses got kissed, their lips finding each other momentarily before moving on. Derek ripped Stiles’ shirt, which made Stiles moan Derek’s name, in order to suck and lap at Stiles’ shoulder while Stiles marked Derek’s neck. They stayed there, Stiles pressed against the wall, Derek holding him up by his ass, for a while. Neither wanted to stop, neither wanted anything else. 

Finally, when Stiles came up for air, he rolled his hips, wanting more contact. That was when Derek put him down, raking his fingers through his own hair, taking a deep breath. 

“We need to talk.” 

“No, I don’t like the sound of that at all,” Stiles said, flat out. Derek laughed, extending his hand out and grabbing Stiles by the neck. Oh, that bastard definitely knew about the whole neck thing. 

“Not a bad talk, we need to talk about this happening.” Stiles looked up at Derek, his eyes wide. 

“Really? This is happening?” 

“Sort of.” Stiles made an unamused face, his lips pressed together. “You’re a minor... and I am definitely not.”

“I just-”

“No coming,” Derek spat out. 

“What?” Stiles asked. Derek’s hand was still on him, so that had to count for something but Stiles really needed to have this explained, fast. 

“We can spend time together, but no... coming. I can’t make you come and you can’t make me come. That’s the only way... I can see that it won’t lead to something that I can get fired for, sort of.” 

“I don’t like that.” Derek’s hand dropped from his neck and Stiles whimpered, wanting it back. “I mean, can’t we just... how about-” shit he was about to just start spouting stuff just to see what he could get away with, “what about jacking off together?” 

“No.” 

“What if I come... like.. from kissing?” Stiles even laughed. “Ok don’t answer that, that is dumb.” 

“Stiles, I want you just as much as you want me, believe me-”

“Pfft.” 

“It is this or nothing.” Derek said seriously. “Take it or leave it.”

“Chinese food and horror movies?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded. “And making out.” Again, Derek nodded. “With clothes on.” 

“Yes, clothes on.” 

“Should I be worried about you ripping more shirts, or?” 

“I got a bit carried away.” Stiles grinned. Yeah he did. Stiles wanted him to do it again if he was being perfectly honest with himself. 

“So, can we go back to making out? Are we done talking now?” Stiles asked, taking a step towards Derek. Derek laughed, nodding as he kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response I have gotten over this fic seriously has me blushing, thanks to all who have commented! It means the world to me :)


	7. Chapter 7

One thing that Stiles didn’t think about in regards to Derek was how he should act, now. He walked into class on Monday and didn’t know where to sit. Should he go to the front where whatever he did would be seen by the entire class, or should he go to the back where he could stare openly and no one would think twice? In the back Derek couldn’t see him as well, either. That is a lot to decide on first thing on a Monday morning and he wasn’t sure he was up for it. 

He settled on sitting in the middle of the room, next to Lydia. The first thing they did was pass up their essays on _A Farewell to Arms_. Stiles had stayed up late finishing his, since he had stayed at Derek’s until his curfew. They watched the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Well, they watched part of it. There wasn’t much watching going on, to be frank. 

Stiles cleared his throat, trying to brush mental pictures of the night before from his mind. Limbs tangled as he was pressed against the couch, Derek hovering over him as they made out. Touching, lots of touching. Stiles bit his lip, shaking his head. Now was not the time to think about it, because that would lead to a- 

Well, that was unfortunate. Stiles sat up straight, hoping no one would notice. He was doing well until he heard Lydia speak up. 

“Is that a hickey? Does Mr. Hale have a hickey on his neck? Someone had fun this weekend....” Stiles looked up and dear god, he gave Derek a hickey on his neck, the collar barely hid it. Stiles grunted, covering his mouth. His cock throbbed between his legs, obviously reacting to Stiles marking Derek. He had marked him as his and the whole class could see it. 

That was so hot, he couldn’t handle it. Derek with his collared shirt and glasses and khakis and a mother fucking hickey on his neck. Stiles couldn’t stop staring at it as Derek moved around, writing on the white board. He should have been taking notes, should have written down the assignment. He heard Derek say something about _Frankenstein_ , which will be fucking awesome, but he wasn’t sure what exactly he said because he zoned out. He didn’t even hear the bell ring he was so out of it. He smiled at Derek as he left, getting one last look at his neck before he walked out of the room. 

The week went by in a flash. School, work, Derek, homework, sleep etc and etc. Less video games, more making out. Scott was busy with Allison so Stiles didn’t really feel bad about the lack of time spent with his best friend. Friday night they hung out, but he texted Derek the whole time. Again, Scott was doing the exact same thing with Allison. It was weird, sort of being in a relationship. Sort of, because nothing was official. There were no ‘so... boyfriends? dating?’ talks. There were movies, pizza, ice cream, and make outs. Lots of kissing and groping. Stiles liked the groping even though it gave him constant blue balls. He knew, though, that the same thing was happening to Derek. They were doing it to themselves but Derek was pretty adamant about the no coming rule. Stiles had come close to it, a few times, despite the ‘keep your clothes on’ rule considering Derek tended to slip his hands underneath fabric anyways. He was such a fucking cheater. 

Saturday, Stiles worked, as always. Story of his life, more like. His dad requested that he not work at Mr. Hale’s house that night, which Stiles got mad about for approximately two point five seconds until he realized why. 

It was his Mother’s birthday. 

Stiles and his dad always made sure that they weren’t working, that they spent the day together. Stiles shot Derek a text, telling him what was up. Derek, of course, understood completely. Stiles and his dad made dinner together, his mother’s famous homemade Fettuccine Alfredo. They only ate it once a year, taking the recipe card out of her recipe box. It was stained from years of use, a corner was even bent. Stiles always teared up, when he saw his dad bring out the box from the master bedroom. It was hard, remembering. Remembering how she loved to cook, how she always made the most amazing food and how now they mostly ate take out. Dinner was made while listening to Billy Joel music, her favorite. They used her CD’s and sang at the top of their lungs, rather horribly, to Uptown Girl, We Didn’t Start the Fire, and Under Pressure. After dinner they watched a movie. She loved Forrest Gump, and always made them watch it on Thanksgiving, of all the holidays to watch it on. She always put it on while she was cooking, putting it on loud enough so that she could hear it from the kitchen. Now, Stiles couldn’t hear a quote from it without thinking about her. 

He could only stand to watch it on her birthday, now. Once a year was enough, and he had his dad with him. He curled up on the couch, wrapped himself up in a blanket as he watched it, whispering his favorite quotes as the movie went on. He closed his eyes, thinking about the lines his mother said along with the movie, her favorite parts. 

“Lieutenant Dan, ice cream!” had always been one of her favorite lines. She loved Tom Hanks, in general. His dad always bought her the latest Tom Hanks movie for Christmas, it was a sort of thing with them. Apparently, their first date had been to see Big at the movie theatre, as his dad reminded him every year. Without fail, though, his dad would fall asleep during Forrest Gump. He usually didn’t make it past Jenny and Forrest in DC, when she ran through the water. Stiles watched the whole thing, though. He couldn’t make himself get up off the couch, despite his dad’s snores. 

Once the credits rolled, though, he went upstairs and crawled into bed, swallowing back his emotions as he dialed Derek’s number, pulling his covers up over his head. 

“Hey,” Derek’s voice said over the receiver. He sounded sad, as if he knew how Stiles would feel if he called. 

“Hey,” he whispered back, his voice cracking just a little. 

“How was dinner?” 

“Sad and happy all at once. It was like she was there, you know?” 

“I know. I... know exactly how you feel.” 

“It’s just the fucking, the fucking Billy Joel music. Her recipe box,” Stiles let tears fall because it hurt so much, still, despite the number of years it has been. “Why can’t I listen to Piano Man without crying like a baby?” 

“Because it’s your mom.” 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called just to cry to you. It was dumb.”

“It’s not dumb Stiles, you call who you care about if you’re sad. It is what you’re supposed to do.” Stiles nodded, burying his head in his pillow. “It just means you’re comfortable with me, with us.” 

“Us,” Stiles whispered. 

“Exactly.” 

Stiles talked to Derek on the phone until he fell asleep. When he woke up, his phone was still pressed against his ear although the call had ended sometime in the night. Thankfully, he had a full day to keep him busy. 

The work on the Hale house was coming to a close and Stiles was starting to panic. He was spending a lot of time with Derek, and he wasn’t sure what he would do once work on the house was done. Derek was moving out of his apartment and into the larger house, which was both good and bad. Good, because it would be out of town and there was less of a chance that Stiles would be spotted with his teacher, and bad because well, it was out of town and farther from his house, meaning less time with Derek. 

Scott was becoming suspicious because he had asked to see a picture of Derek, of which Stiles had none. No pictures, for obvious reasons. He also wanted to meet him, which was not possible. Nope, not happening. It meant that Stiles was becoming more secretive, there was no way around it. If Scott knew exactly who Derek was, it would all be over because his face always gave everything away. He was unable to keep secrets period and this was a secret that needed to be kept. 

Stiles was helping Derek pack, which meant piling all of Derek’s books into boxes and labeling them. Oh yes, labeling. They put on music, and Derek had a glass of wine. Apparently packing was something that Derek was used to doing, because he knew exactly how he wanted everything put away. 

“My family used to move around a lot, I actually don’t have a lot of stuff.”

“You call this ‘not a lot of stuff’?” Stiles asked, looking around at the room covered in boxes. 

“These are books, not stuff.” 

“Yeah okay whatever you say,” Stiles joked, taping up a box. Derek smiled to himself, taking a sip of wine. Stiles didn’t like wine, at all. He didn’t like the taste. But then again, he didn’t like the taste of beer either but you had to drink it to get drunk and drunk was fun. No alcohol for him in front of Derek, though. 

“I don’t think so, Stiles,” he had said, which Stiles rolled his eyes at. “I am not supplying my minor boyfriend with alcohol.” 

“Haha, you said boyfriend,” Stiles retorted, not caring an ounce about the lack of alcohol because Derek had just called him his boyfriend. Small victories. Derek rolled his eyes as he looked at Stiles, his lips pursed. 

“I did, do you think we aren’t?” 

“No, no. We totally are. Totally. I just didn’t think you thought that. I didn’t want to bring it up I was being a stupid teenager.” 

“You aren’t a stupid teenager, your essays show me exactly how smart you are.” Stiles blushed, but said nothing. “Even when you were mad at me and only half-assed your homework.” 

“Yeah, well. If my grades slipped I’d be in deep shit, so.” Derek walked over, kissing Stiles. It deepened quickly, Stiles grabbing onto Derek’s shirt as he pressed a leg between Derek’s as they stood. Stiles’ hands slid down, his palms against Derek’s stomach. God, he just really fucking wanted to just- 

He did it anyways. His hand slipped beneath the fabric of Derek’s jeans, teasing the hair of his happy trail. Derek groaned and Stiles waited for Derek to push him away. When he didn’t, Stiles unbuttoned the jeans, shoving his hand under Derek’s boxer briefs, gripping him in his hand. Stiles gasped against Derek’s mouth, happy he wasn’t being shoved away. He wanted this, he wanted to make Derek come. Oh, please. Please don’t make him stop. Derek cupped Stiles face in his hands as the kiss ended, turning his head so that he could press his lips against Stiles’ neck. Stiles moaned, closing his eyes as he worked Derek with his hand, as Derek mouthed at his tender flesh, scraping against Stiles’ neck with his teeth. 

“Can we please just-” Stiles started but then Derek’s mouth was on his again and he wasn’t about to complain about that. He quickened his pace and Derek was thrusting his hips against Stiles’ fist. 

“Shh, just, dammit, Stiles,” Derek growled, taking a step back. Stiles whimpered, he didn’t even care what it sounded like. Derek’s hand was on his neck and he was about to explode in his pants and Derek made him stop jacking him off and he wasn’t happy about it. Derek didn’t seem to happy either, though. 

“Derek, let me-”

“No.” 

Stiles clenched his jaw, disappointment played across his features. 

“This is ridiculous. You’re dripping-”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek said, his chest heaving as he rebuttoned his jeans. Stiles gnawed on his bottom lip, scratching the back of his neck, wishing he still had his hands on Derek. “I need a minute.” Stiles watched as Derek walked into his bedroom, leaving the door open. He stood there, for a moment, contemplating following him. His brain said no, but his cock was in charge at the moment and it didn’t give a flying fuck what his brain wanted. 

He followed Derek into his room to find him sitting on his bed, head down and hand wrapped around his own cock. He looked at Stiles, his chin down, and groaned. Stiles came forward, dropping to his knees, spreading Derek’s knees so he could fit between them. Stiles put his hands on Derek’s thighs, tilting his head upwards. Their lips brushed together for only a second before Stiles’ hands moved up his thighs, pushing Derek’s hand out of the way. Stiles bent over, taking Derek into his mouth. Derek leaned back so he could watch as Stiles lapped at him, bobbing his head as Derek’s cock filled his mouth. Derek’s hand on the back of Stiles’ neck sent shivers down his spine as his mouth worked him. Stiles could taste precome and it made him ache. He too, needed release and he didn’t want it to be from his own hand. He wanted it to be Derek who made him come. 

He cupped Derek’s balls in his hand as he took him as far down as he could without choking. He came up for air, swallowing hard as he gasped, looking up at Derek. He wrapped his hand around Derek’s cock, stroking it slowly as Derek kissed him again, cupping his face in his hands once more. He loved when he did that, when Derek’s stubble scraped his skin. He put a hand on Derek’s chest, climbing up onto the bed. Derek laid down on his back as Stiles pushed his jeans down. Derek silently watched him as he stepped out of them then rid himself of his boxers. Stiles gulped as he climbed on top of Derek, pressing his cock against Derek’s, gripping both of them at once. Derek groaned, rolling his hips against the contact. Stiles licked his lips, closing his eyes as both of his hands wrapped around them both, jacking them together. God, he was already so fucking close and it felt fucking amazing. The friction had him panting, gasping for air. Derek put his hands over Stiles’, picking up the pace of his ministrations. Stiles hips moved along with their hands, both of them fucking their fists. Stiles moaned, biting down hard on his lip. He was coming, even though he wished it lasted longer, so much longer. He felt it building, fast and there was nothing he could do to stop it. With another shuddering breath he came, riding it out as he kept moving. Completely spent and over sensitized, he pulled away. Derek was jacking himself off, watching Stiles lay down next to him. Stiles leaned over, kissing him. Derek groaned into the kiss and he was coming, making a mess of his chest. 

Stiles stayed on the bed as Derek got a washcloth, cleaning them both off. Afterwards, he crawled back into bed with him, wrapping his arms around Stiles, his lips pressing against Stiles’ forehead. Stiles was tired, so tired. And happy. 

The happiest. They fell asleep, there, legs intertwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> self-promo: I sort of don't follow many TW people on tumblr? *gasp* I know, I know. Crazy. Anyways, I am slipintothewater over there... so if you wanna follow me? :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has graphic scenes of drug withdrawal.

Stiles woke up with sunlight shining on his face. He was on his side and Derek’s arm was draped over his body. For a moment, he laid there contented. 

Until he realized that it was daylight. He sat up, his eyes wide. 

“Oh shit. Oh, fuck,” he muttered as he scrambled out of the bed, looking for his jeans. Derek woke up, rubbing his eyes. “Derek I’m in so much shit right now you have no fucking idea-” Stiles pulled on his shirt. 

It was just after sunrise, 6:27am to be exact. Stiles dug his hand into his pocket, looking at his phone. Ten missed calls, eight of which were from his dad with two from Scott. There were also a slew of texts, all from Scott. Stiles ran his fingers through his shirt, hyperventilating. Derek pulled on a pair of pants and walked over to him, rubbing his back. 

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Stiles shook his head. 

“Derek, I am so dead. I have nothing to tell him, what the fuck am I going to tell him?” Stiles was so fucked and he knew it. He knew his dad probably called the McCall’s when Stiles didn’t answer his phone and he knew that Scott probably tried to cover for him and then his dad probably asked to speak with Scott’s mom and for fuck’s sake it is Monday. They have school. He broke curfew and stayed out all night on a school night. 

“I don’t know, Stiles,” Derek sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe we should-”

“I am not telling him the truth. That is beyond fucked.” Stiles walked towards the door. “I’ve got to go home. I’ll,uh- I’ll see you at school.” 

Stiles got into his car and took a deep breath. He was shaking, so many fucking missed doses. Shit, shit, fuck, god dammit. He debated calling his dad, or just coming home and getting ripped a new one. Warn him, or not? Stiles dialed his dad’s number. 

“Stiles, where the fuck have you been?” Stiles swallowed, licking his lips. 

“I can’t really explain what happened.” 

“You better start now. Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, yeah. Dad I am so, so sorry. I didn’t-”

“I am at the station, get your ass over here right now.” 

“Dad I really need Adderall, I am shaking, can I just-” the Sheriff sighed audibly. “How many doses have you missed. 

“I missed some last week and now it is two more in a row, I feel sick.” He actually felt like he was going to throw up, which was not pleasant. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the medication, or because his dad was going to kill him. 

“I’ve got some at the station, get over here.” 

Stiles sat in his Jeep for five minutes before he went in to the station. He felt like everyone knew, everyone was looking at him as if he was walking on death row. He wanted to put his hood up and hide. By far the longest walk to his dad’s office ever. Sitting, waiting for him at his desk, was his dad. He had a bottle of water and a pill by the chair that he wanted Stiles to sit in. Fuck, fuck. Stiles sat down slowly, taking the pill and drinking the water. 

“Explain.” Stiles sat, gathering his thoughts. 

“I’ve... uh. I’ve got a boyfriend.” There. He said it. Jesus Christ that was easier than he thought it would be. His dad’s eyebrows rose. 

“Are you lying to me right now?” He asked. Stiles shook his head, looking down at the bottle of water in his hands. 

“We uh, I fell asleep at his house last night on accident. Total accident. I swear to god I didn’t mean to do it.” 

“You and a guy?” Stiles nodded. His dad sat there in silence for a while. “What happened to that Lydia girl?”

“Dates the lacrosse captain.” 

“This... boys... is this new?” Stiles shrugged. “Okay... just... give me your phone.” Stiles’ eyes widened. He didn’t have pictures on it, but there were texts. Oh, god. Texts. He didn’t have Derek’s last name in it but they talked about assignments. Stiles hesitated, but the glare his father was giving him made him hand it over. His dad took it, and turned it off. Well, at least he had a passcode on it? He watched his dad put it in the his desk drawer. The lockable one. “You’ll get this back... sometime.”

“How will you get ahold of me?” Stiles asked. 

“I won’t need to, because you, young man, are grounded.” 

“Oh.” 

“Very grounded. You only get to keep your keys to your Jeep because you need it to get to school, and to work. There will be no Scott, no going to help Mr. Hale at his house, no video games, no phone, and internet will only be for an hour a night. I am going to change the password to the wifi to make sure you uphold it.” Stiles bristled. 

“How long?” He asked in a whisper. 

“Until I state otherwise.” 

“What about... about me being-” Stiles was scared, until the look on his dad’s face changed. There wasn’t anger there, just disappointment. Not disappointment in him in having a boyfriend, though. Just in him scaring the shit out of his dad. 

“That, I want to talk about later when you’ve showered, changed, and I am not in shock.” Stiles nodded slightly. “I am writing you a note so you can miss first period. Go shower and change." Stiles’ eyes widened and he shook his head. 

“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll be okay.” 

“You’re shaking from fucking up your medication, Stiles. I should just have you stay home. Who knows what side effects are on the way?” Stiles felt like shit, he felt worse than shit but he needed to see Derek. If he didn’t, if he couldn’t explain what happened, he would have no way to contact him. “Go home, shower, eat a big breakfast, then go to school. You haven’t missed any school days yet, so missing one class won’t hurt.” Stiles nodded, defeated. 

He rushed, though. He ate a bowl of cereal, showered, then brushed his teeth. He felt ill, he sweat through a shirt before he was even out the door again. He walked out holding another shirt, deciding to drive without one on in hopes of his medication kicking in by the time he got to school. He had a headache and he couldn’t calm down. He sat in his Jeep, his hands covering his face, hoping that his heart rate would go down. He just came out to his father, told him that he had a boyfriend the day after Derek even said that they were, in fact, boyfriends. There was no way that this was going to go over well. He got out of the Jeep, putting his shirt on. He walked into the office, handed the secretary his dad’s note, but said nothing. She signed him in, then he headed to Derek’s classroom. He walked slow, knowing there was only five minutes left until the bell. 

When he walked in, the entire class looked at him. He walked up to Derek and swallowed as he handed over the note. He wasn’t going to look Derek in the eye, but he decided to at the last second before he started walking to a seat. 

“Are you alright, Stiles?” Derek asked. “You don’t look well.” Stiles probably looked like shit, but he wanted to see Derek. Stiles shook his head, once. 

“I’m fine.” Lies. All lies. Nothing was okay, nothing was fine. He sat down in the only open seat, right in the middle of the fucking room. Thanks, guys. Thanks. He put his head down on the desk, closing his eyes. He knew Derek wouldn’t bother him, not really. He wanted to be in bed, he wanted another shower. He wished his dad had given him two pills, even though he wasn’t supposed to double up. But he knew, he knew that if he had just taken two that the side effects wouldn’t be as bad now. Sure, he wouldn’t sleep tonight, but to him that would have been worth it. He should have taken another one when he got home but he just didn’t even think about the possibility. The bell rang and everyone filed out of the classroom. Stiles didn’t move. Eventually, Derek walked up to him and put his hand on Stiles’ neck. Stiles moaned, from both the comfort of his touch and from distress over his situation. 

“You’re burning up.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t take your meds.” Stiles mumbled. “I think I am having a breakdown.” 

“If you were having a breakdown I’d know it.” Stiles looked up at Derek, his chest heaving. 

“I’m grounded.”

“We knew that the moment you woke up,” Derek looked around, the room was still empty, “in my bed.” Stiles nodded, wringing his fingers in his hands. 

“I told my dad I had a boyfriend,” he swallowed, almost afraid to look at Derek. 

“Stiles-” Derek started to say, but someone walked in. “I’ll see you after school, for detention.” Stiles looked up at him, his jaw falling open. Derek glared at him, as if he was angry. “Understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Now go to the nurse,” Derek added. Stiles nodded, unable to hold back a smile. Stiles went to the nurse and explained what happened with his meds. She had him lay down while she called his dad. Awesome, yes, call the Sheriff because his kid doesn’t know how to take medication to save his life. Fucking Adderall. 

“Your father said he wanted you to stay home, Stiles,” the nurse told him. Stiles nodded his head. He felt dizzy, nauseous. 

“Well, I have a detention this afternoon.”

“With who, dear?” 

“Mr. Hale.” This was some sort of fucking sick joke, wasn’t it? Someone up top really hated him. 

“I’ll phone him and tell him you can do it tomorrow, you are going home.” Stiles sighed, shaking his head. He wanted that detention, so bad. “I am sure he will understand, Mr. Hale is a nice man.” Stiles laughed, but coughed in order to hide it. If only she knew. 

The nurse called to Derek’s room, explaining the situation. She smiled at Stiles as if she was helping him when she in fact, was ruining his day. “Mr. Hale understands, sweetheart. He said tomorrow would do just fine.” Of course he said that, what was he going to do? Demand to see his boyfriend? “Your father is on his way, as well, to come get you and sign you out.” 

Well that’s just great. He forgot that his dad would have to sign him out. He fell asleep and before he knew it, he was shaken awake by his dad. 

“Come on, Stiles. Let’s get you home.” 

He got into the passenger side of his dad’s patrol car, sad to be leaving his Jeep at school. “I called the coffee shop, you aren’t going in today.” 

“Dad-”

“You need to get yourself sorted. You should be glad your symptoms aren’t worse.”

“They’re getting worse,” Stiles mumbled, his eyes closed and face pressed against the window. When they pulled up to the house, his dad helped get him up the stairs and into the bathroom. As soon as the water turned on, Stiles started crying. He couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t even warn his dad about it. His body shook, he was crying so hard. His chest was heaving and he felt like he was having a panic attack. He dry heaved, coughing. This was too much, it was all too much. Derek, his dad, the secrets, being stupid about his meds. Walls felt like they were closing in around him and he couldn’t stop them. 

His dad got him into the shower, turning on the water, trying to calm him down. Eventually, he was able to catch his breath. He was breathing as if he had the hiccups, unable to get enough air into his lungs at one time from his freak out. Thank god he wasn’t at school. He covered his eyes with a hand as he pulled a leg close, resting his chin on it as he let the spray of the shower lull him into a false sense of security. He knew his dad was there, sitting on the toilet, watching him. 

“I’m okay,” Stiles whispered. “You don’t need to watch over me, dad.” 

“I do, I’m staying.” Stiles shook his head, letting tears fall freely, mixing with the water of the shower. “I want you to know that I love you, and I don’t care who you date. Boy, girl, I don’t care. You know that, right?” Stiles nodded, hiding his head in his arms. “I don’t want you to think-” 

“I’m fine. It’s the meds.” 

“It’s got to be more than that, son.” 

“I just want to be alone, dad, please.” 

“Let’s get you out of the shower first, okay? Come on.” His dad turned off the shower and helped him up, helped him strip down from the soaking wet clothes. The Sheriff handed Stiles a towel, then let him dry himself off and let him change. When he was done, Stiles crawled into bed, his breath still hitching in his throat every so often. His dad sat by him, on the edge of the bed. “Maybe we should think about putting you back on anti-”

“No. No, I’m fine.” 

“Stiles-”

“This is not,” Stiles started, but his voice caught in his throat. “This is not like with mom, dad. I don’t need them, I don’t want them. I forgot my pills. I am not regressing, okay?” Stiles talked fast, too fast, his words coming out in a tumble. He didn’t want to go to the doctor, he didn’t want antidepressants again. Mixed with Adderall they kept him up, they made him a zombie. He had no feelings, no highs, no lows. He just... existed. He wanted happiness, he wanted sadness, he wanted to be human. He wanted to love Derek. 

Stiles swallowed, pressing his face into his pillow. Fuck, he loved Derek. “Please, dad. I won’t mess up again.” 

“Let’s get you back on track, and go from there.” Stiles nodded, shaking slightly. Weeks of fucking up his meds, this sent him over the edge. “You get some sleep, I’ll be home before you know it.” 

Stiles slept. He didn’t get out of bed until he heard the front door open and close, his father coming home for the night. He walked downstairs to find that his dad making soup. A glass of water and a pill were waiting for him by his seat at the table. He took it without a word, sitting down, placing his arms on the table, then rest his head on them. 

“Tomato?” He asked. 

“I even shredded cheese.” 

“Awesome,” Stiles whispered. “The only thing that would make that bett-”

“And grilled cheese.” Stiles laughed. He didn’t think he could, but he did. His dad put them down in front of him, and Stiles sat up. He ate slowly, hoping his stomach would keep it down. It did, thankfully. They ate in silence and Stiles just wanted to go back to bed. “I stopped by the school and got your work, it said you have a detention tomorrow.” Stiles spit up his soup. “Says you had an attitude in class. I’m going to chalk it up to you reacting to being grounded, and your meds.” 

Stiles nodded, wiping his mouth with his hand. 

“Yeah, definitely.” 

“I’m letting it go, this time. Because I think you punished yourself enough.” If that wasn’t the truth, Stiles didn’t know what was. 

“Does this mean-”

“You’re still grounded,” his dad said. Stiles nodded, clearing his throat. Understandable. “But I’m giving you your phone back.” Stiles looked up, surprised. His dad slid it over to him. It was still off. He hadn’t looked through it. “You have to call your work and explain to them why you’re going to be late tomorrow.” 

Stiles had no problem doing that, not at all. He felt numb, so tired. When he got back in bed he thought about calling Derek, but he just didn’t have it in him. He let sleep take him, because he desperately needed it to.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles missed three days of school, total, before he felt alright. He texted Derek twice, once to tell him he wasn’t coming to school on Tuesday morning, and then Wednesday at 3:45 in the morning when he couldn’t sleep because the Adderall was fucking with his brain. Insomnia kept him up because he had slept so much the previous two days. He fell back asleep at six, but woke up at ten. His dad told him to try to stay up so that the same thing wouldn’t happen again. He read all of Frankenstein, curled up on the couch as he bit his nails. He didn’t normally do it, but for some reason he just needed to. He needed to do something with his hands as he read the book. He finished Frankenstein, which in all honesty wasn’t very long, and had time to spare before his dad got home. No video games, no TV, no internet, no Scott. Scott had been texting him, and he had responded with nothing but one word responses. He just couldn’t handle more. He’d tell Scott in person, whenever he had the energy. He was so tired, so over his fucking medication fucking with his brain. He felt like his emotions were bombs with short fuses. He snapped at his dad, freaked out over nothing when his dad asked him to do the smallest things. He knew deep down that it was the medication, because as soon as his dad shut the door to his bedroom he immediately felt bad. He was sick of saying sorry, of apologizing for shouting. 

His dad took it all in stride though. He knew, he understood that this wasn’t Stiles, his Stiles. Stiles felt good enough on Thursday morning to go to school. They hadn’t even gone to the school to pick up his Jeep, he had felt that bad. His dad drove him to school, dropping him off for the first time since his 16th birthday, sophomore year when he got his Jeep. 

Suddenly, school felt congested. Lots of people. People walking, people talking, people bumping into him. After spending three days alone, talking to no one, he felt overwhelmed. It was like his brain short circuited and suddenly he didn’t know how to act around people. He wanted to go back home, he wanted to hide in his locker. Scott found him, it was like he had some sort of homing beacon on Stiles and knew he was in the vicinity because one second he was alone and then suddenly Scott was there. 

“Hey man, how are you feeling?” He asked and Stiles nodded. 

“I, uh.... good. I’m good,” he answered, messing with his locker. He thought for a second, when he finally got it open, about what he needed. “I had a rough couple of days but it’s all good now.” 

Off handed comments were the best way to deal with it, because he didn’t want to talk about it. Even with Scott. What was he even supposed to say, anyways? He had nothing to say, he just wanted to be himself. At least he didn’t feel like he was dying anymore. 

“Are you still-”

“Grounded? Yeah. Believe me, you’ll be the first to know when I’m not.”

“You work today?” Scott asked. Stiles shook his head. 

“I, uh... I had to quit.”

“What? Why?” Stiles bit his lip, looking at Scott. Really, man? Seriously, you don’t get it? “Because of what happened?”Stiles’ best friend was an idiot. 

“Yeah, I just... my dad thinks I spread myself too thin.” Stiles really didn’t want to fucking talk about this right now. “Maybe dad will let you come over, or something. I can ask tonight?” 

“Yeah, ask him.” Stiles nodded. He knew his dad would say no, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. He missed his best friend. When Stiles walked into class, he was one the only one in there. The bell hadn’t rung yet, and most students stayed in the hallways as long as they could. Derek looked up from his desk, looking the same as he always did. Stiles didn’t even have it in him to smile. He was exhausted already and the school day hadn’t even started. Derek looked like he wanted to stand up, to come over to him, to hug him. He wished Derek could do just that. Instead, he walked over to his desk, his fingers strumming on the tabletop lightly. 

“Can I have my missed assignments?” Stiles asked. Derek reached his hand out, palm up invitingly. Stiles slid his hand over Derek’s, their fingers linking together. 

“How are you feeling?” Derek asked. Stiles closed his eyes. 

“Shitty,” he said in a sigh. “Wish I wasn’t still grounded.” 

“Don’t worry about that right now, think about you.” Derek’s hand squeezed his, then he pulled away. “I’ll have your assignments for you after school. I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

“If I had to spend another day in that house I would have gone insane.”

“You don’t need to stay after school if you don’t-”

“Are you kidding me? Best detention ever. There better not be anyone else there.” Stiles pointed accusingly at Derek, forcing a smile. He sat down, then, because the room was filling up. Stiles’ head was buzzing, it was difficult for him to pay attention. He zoned out in almost every class, discussions didn’t even register in his mind. He made sure to get all of his missed work assignments and the dates that they would be due from all of his teachers, but besides that he didn’t do anything. He looked out windows, stared at blank paper, and watched teachers write on the whiteboard without writing a single thing down himself. The end of the day came, and Stiles practically rushed into Derek’s classroom. It was empty, which surprised him. 

“Mr. Hale?” He asked, knowing Derek wasn’t there. He took out his phone, there was no missed call, no text. Stiles breathed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. He could feel himself spiraling, for a moment. Anxiety, panic, walls closing in. “Stop, stop, stop,” he whispered. 

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice rang out. Stiles opened his eyes, relief flooding over him. Derek shut the door and walked over to him tentatively. Stiles put his arms around Derek, burying his head against his neck. Derek held him there in silence, a hand rubbing Stiles’ back slowly. “You scared me, you know that right?” Stiles nodded his head. “You should carry medicine with you.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Are you good?” Derek asked, his grip loosening. They were in the school. At Derek’s work. They shouldn’t be touching. Stiles nodded, taking a step back. Derek extended a hand, telling Stiles to sit at one of the desks. He did, and Derek joined him, sitting next to him. Derek sitting in a desk looked weird. His legs were stretched out, he put his elbows up on the desk and put his hands together. Stiles bit his lip and looked down at his hands. “Has your dad asked to see your boyfriend?” 

“No,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “We haven’t... talked yet. About it, I mean.” Stiles picked at the desk with a fingernail, swallowing. “I didn’t think, I couldn’t lie to him.”

“I am not mad at you, Stiles.” Stiles looked at Derek. He looked frustrated, but not angry. Stiles pursed his lips together. “He’s going to ask to meet him, to meet me.”

“I’ll... tell him-”

“A lie? You just said you couldn’t lie to him.” 

“What do you want me to do, then?” Derek looked at his hands. Stiles watched him think, watched his jaw clench and unclench as if he was debating something with himself. 

“Tell him we broke up.” 

“What?” Stiles’ eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”

“We need to slow down, Stiles.” Stiles shook his head. “Hear me out, okay?” Stiles stayed silent, trying to control his breathing. “You need to get yourself sorted, you aren’t yourself right now-”

“I need you, though.” Derek shook his head. 

“No, you don’t. You were perfectly fine before we started dating. I want you healthy, and happy. This-” Derek motioned between them, “is causing you a lot of stress.” 

“I refuse.” Derek sighed. 

“I am not dumping you, I am not saying I don’t want you, because that would be a lie. I like you, Stiles. But you are seventeen and you just had a breakdown.” Stiles clenched his jaw, angry at himself for letting this happen. If he had just taken his fucking pills this wouldn’t be happening. “We are slowing down, it has to happen.” 

“Not breaking up, though.” 

 

“No, but as far as what your dad can know-”

“Okay, fine,” Stiles snapped. Derek looked at him, his face unreadable. “Is this because I texted you at 3:45 in the morning?” 

“You said ‘this is hard’, Stiles. I can’t-” Derek took a deep breath. “I am not going to be the cause of this, of anything. You have to understand that.” Stiles sniffed, nodding his head. “I didn’t think when I picked you up from the party, I didn’t think when-”

“If you say it was a mistake I am going to kick you.” 

“No, it wasn’t a mistake. I just... we need to wait until your birthday, Stiles.” 

“No making out?” Derek shook his head, “kissing?” Again, no. 

“You are running really hot and cold you know that?” 

“What do you want me to do, Stiles? What can I do about this, really?” Stiles put his head down on the desk, looking at Derek. This entire situation was unfair. He wanted to be with Derek, he wanted to be alright, he wanted his job back, he wanted to play video games with his best friend. Everything was flipped upside down. 

“Phone calls and texting are still happening,” Stiles stated. “And we are kissing.” Stiles was making demands and he didn’t give a flying fuck. “Movies and take out.” 

“Stiles, that is what we were doing before.” 

“I don’t care. I am not backing down.” Derek sighed. “You said you liked me, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“Well this is what I want. I want to be friends, I want to spend time with you. I want you to touch me without thinking you are going to break me because I am not fucking fragile, alright?” Derek nodded. “Not that we will get to hang out anytime soon. I am grounded for life.” 

Derek looked at the clock, groaning. 

“Detention is over.” 

“You do know I am going to act out in class to get more detentions, right?”

“You better fucking not.” 

It was easier than Stiles thought it would be, getting back to normal. Or, what was considered normal to him. He did all his catch up work, talked to Derek on the phone before bed, and stayed out of detention. His father ungrounded him after two weeks. Stiles asked for his job back, but with less hours. They put him on the schedule, since they hadn’t replaced him yet. His curfew was still ten, but he had to text his dad with where he was. 

The day he was set free, he went to Scott’s. He stayed until quarter to ten, walking in the door at a few minutes until ten. He didn’t miss a dose, ever. It got easier, not being around Derek. They texted, and talked but there was no physical aspect. Derek stayed away from the coffee shop and never asked Stiles to stay after class. Stiles didn’t ask to come over, because he knew that Derek was trying hard to keep him at arm’s length. He knew if he asked, that Derek would let him come over. He didn’t want to put Derek in that position, though. Because he knew, deep down, that he needed to wait for his birthday. 

It was coming up, which had Stiles practically bouncing. Eighteen, he would be eighteen. 

“What do you want for your birthday?” Derek asked, late one night. Stiles smiled as he laid in bed, pretending to think. 

“Easy, you.” 

“Besides me,” Derek laughed. “That, that is happening.”

“That’s all. That is what I want.” 

“No new game?” 

“Nope, dad has that covered. I just want you and me on a bed, or the kitchen table? Or the couch. Oh, against a wall. No, wait. No... I was going to say on the floor but I don’t want rug burn.” 

“Stiles...” 

“I’m not jacking off I swear to god,” Stiles managed to get out between bouts of laughter. “I just... there are so many places to pick from.” 

“Are you seriously telling me where you want- no. This conversation is over.” 

“No, not it isn’t over. It is my birthday and I will spend it how I want to. And I want to spend it naked, bent over-” Derek growled. “You liked that mental picture don’t even lie.”

“Which is why you need to stop.” 

“Debbie downer.” 

“Are you and your dad doing something for it?” 

“He has to work, which is fine. I mean, I’ll spend it with you and Scott. Scott and I are going to buy cigarettes.” 

“What?”

“Because I fucking can. I am not going to smoke them or anything. We talked about it since we were ten, no backing down now. I am buying them.” 

“You’re so weird.” 

“You love-” Stiles stopped mid-sentence. “But uh, I have to work on my birthday, which totally blows. But after that, I am free. It’s a Friday night and I already asked dad to forego the curfew.” Stiles hoped Derek would over look his slip up, that he wouldn’t mention it. He was quiet for a moment, but responded as if he didn’t hear anything. 

“And does he think you are going to be with Scott?” Derek asked, clearing his throat. 

“I mean, I didn’t really say? I am not spending the night or anything, right?”

“Right.”

“So it doesn’t really matter, it’s my birthday and I am spending it with you, so.” There was a lull in the conversation, but Stiles didn’t care. He refused to let his slip up effect him. 

“What are your thoughts on cake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more chapter left :(


	10. Chapter 10

It wasn’t so much that Stiles was nervous, because he wasn’t. It was the anticipation that was killing him. A week before his birthday he stopped at Derek’s after work, keeping an eye on the time. 

“I’ve got a question for you,” Derek said, his lips against Stiles’ neck. “Do you- have you-” Stiles laughed, his hand against Derek’s cheek as his lips brushed against Derek’s. 

“Spit it out, Derek.” 

“I’ve been thinking about your birthday-”

“Oh, yeah?” Stiles asked, pressing his body against Derek’s, teasing. Derek’s hands were on his waist, holding him still. 

“Have you ever- with yourself. Have you ever stretched yourself?” He asked in a tumble. Stiles bit his lip, his cheeks reddening. 

“Uh, what would you say if I said yes?” He asked swallowing. Derek grinned, his hand slipping into Stiles’ back pocket, an eyebrow raising. 

“You have?” 

“Does that turn you on?” Stiles asked, taking a deep breath. Derek nodded, his hand squeezing Stiles’ ass. 

“A little jealous, but glad at the same time because-”

“Because it will hurt less? Yeah I got that, definitely. I have been thinking about this for a very, very long time.” Stiles admitted. “I mean, you know... I, uh-”

“I know how much teenagers jack off, Stiles, I was one too.” Stiles laughed, nodding his head, his hand on Derek’s chest. “I just wasn’t sure if you were experimenting or anything.” Stiles groaned, walking Derek towards the couch. Derek sat on the armrest, kissing Stiles. Stiles’ chest was heaving, talk of what he did alone and Derek being jealous of the fact that he had basically fucked himself had his blood pumping. Derek slowed the kiss, a hand gripping Stiles’ chin. “Hey, hey. We’ve got a week, let’s not jump the gun early, okay?” 

“I’m starting to think that you are a masochist,” Stiles gasped, reaching between Derek’s legs. Derek grabbed hold of Stiles’ wrist, stopping him. 

“I am, yeah.” 

“Come on-”

“Stiles, it’s quarter to ten. If you are grounded for your birthday I swear to god-” Stiles looked at Derek’s watch, checking the time for himself. He groaned unhappily. Derek kissed him one last time before standing, practically pushing Stiles out the door. 

“Rude,” Stiles muttered as he got into his Jeep, grinning to himself.   
One more week. 

Stiles woke up on his birthday with a hard on. Wonderful, awesome. If that didn’t say anything about him as a person, nothing else would. He took an extra long shower, not caring that he was running late. He dressed and ran down the stairs, almost missing the fact that his dad was sitting in the kitchen, despite his working the day shift. He had a balloon, which made Stiles stop dead in his tracks. A balloon. His dad got him a balloon. And a card. 

“Happy birthday, Stiles,” he said, standing and hugging him. Stiles hugged him back. “You deserve this.” Stiles opened the card to find a check for three hundred dollars. 

“What? Dad, you can’t- holy shit.” 

“Now that, that is to be saved and used for something big. Also for a new video game, or whatever you want. And you don’t need to take the balloon to school-”

“Oh, I am taking this balloon.” Stiles said, taking the ribbon in his hand. “It is traveling around with me and everything.” Stiles ran the check upstairs, then gave his dad another hug before he walked outside, to his Jeep. “Oh, balls,” he whispered when he saw his Jeep. Scott had come over in the middle of the night with one of those soap pens that you write on windows with and decided to decorate his Jeep. “Happy Sweet 18th Genim” was written on the side. Stiles made a face. “That asshole.It’s sweet 16, not 18,” Stiles mumbled as he got into his Jeep and rode to school. When he got there, he took a picture of it and sent it to Derek. 

_Is that a balloon?_ Derek asked. 

_Jealous you didn’t think of getting me a balloon?_ Stiles responded with. He lied. He left the balloon in his Jeep. Mainly because he didn’t want some asshole to pop it, which totally happened to him when Scott got him one when he turned thirteen. 

_I’ve got something else for you_. Cheeky shit. Stiles walked down the hallway, looking for Scott so he could punch him in the arm. He opened his locker and confetti fell out. A lot of it. 

“Ugh.” 

“Happy Birthday!” Scott said, popping out from around the corner, where he had probably been waiting the last ten minutes. With him was Allison. 

“Thanks, man,” Stiles said, dusting the confetti off of his books. “Confetti and graffiti. Nice.” 

“The confetti was my idea,” Allison said, smiling. Stiles raised his eyebrows, nodding his head as if that made total sense. 

“And Scott’s was writing on my Jeep.” 

“Basically, yeah,” Allison said, looking to Scott. 

“Thanks guys, really. I’ll see you at lunch, right?” 

“Right,” Scott said, grinning. 

“You didn’t get a cake, did you?” Stiles asked, worried. “Worse, you didn’t make one.... right?” Scott shook his head, looking at Allison to back him up. 

“Scott definitely didn’t do anything like that.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at them. Liars. They were both such liars. He made his way to class, sitting in the back. Derek looked back, confused, but said nothing. They basically stared at each other the whole class, though. Well, Stiles stared while Derek glanced. Stiles stayed after, just a few seconds. 

“Happy birthday,” Derek whispered, his hands in his pockets to keep from touching Stiles. Stiles smiled, licking his lips. 

“Do I get a present?” He asked, tilting his head. 

“Oh yeah, but not here.” Stiles pouted. “You won’t be making that face later.” 

“Wanna bet?” Stiles asked, sticking his bottom lip out farther. 

“Get out of here,” Derek said, laughing, as he motioned with his head. 

After school, Stiles and Scott went to the gas station where Stiles bought cigarettes. It was rather underwhelming considering he wasn’t even carded. He called bullshit because he basically looked like a fourteen year old, but whatever. He did it, tossing the cigarettes into his glove box because he didn’t actually need them. Work was slow and boring until Derek came to visit. It was a surprise, because he never came into the shop when Stiles was working, at least he hadn’t in a long time. It made Stiles’ day, actually, which sounded lame but he didn’t care. 

Isaac let him go home early for his birthday, saying that he could lock up on his own. Stiles practically ran out of the coffee shop and into his Jeep. He met Derek at the big house, outside of town. When he got there, Derek’s camaro was parked out front already. Of course it was, though. It was his house. Stiles laughed at himself, he was being silly. He got out of his Jeep, bringing his balloon with him. He didn’t even knock on the door before Derek opened it, laughing at the wilting balloon. 

“Hey, don’t laugh at my balloon.” 

“It’s a nice balloon,” Derek whispered, cupping Stiles’ face in his hands. They kissed, walking over the threshold. Derek shut the door, slipping Stiles’ hoodie off, then his long sleeved shirt. “Are you ready for your present?” He asked. 

“Mmmhmm,” Stiles muttered as he continued kissing him. Derek led him into the kitchen where there was a single cupcake. “What, holy shit.” 

“Because I am lame, you have to make a wish first,” Derek said as he walked over to the cupcake, sticking a candle in it. He lit it, then picked it up and walked it over to Stiles. 

“Are you going to sing to me?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head. 

“No one wants to hear me sing, believe me.” Stiles grinned. “Go on, blow it out.”

“I’d rather blow-”

“Stiles.” Stiles blew out the candle, his hand grasping at Derek’s belt loops, pulling him closer. Derek took the candle out of the cupcake and tossed it onto the kitchen table, then peeled back the wrapper. “Open wide.” Stiles laughed, thinking about something else entirely. Derek gave him a look, so he opened his mouth. He was actually going to feed him the- 

Yep. Derek fed him the cupcake. How domestic. The most domestic. Once Stiles had it in his mouth, Derek kissed him. The half eaten cupcake was discarded, forgotten about on the table as Stiles backed Derek up against it. Derek grasped at Stiles shirt, pulling it over his head. Stiles gasped as Derek’s mouth trailed down his neck, his chest, his nipple. Stiles’ fingers raked through Derek’s hair as he teased and nipped at his skin. Derek’s hands didn’t stay still, rubbing up and down Stiles’ sides, his back, his ass. This was what they had been waiting for, what they had been holding out for. Stiles moaned as Derek raked his teeth across his nipple, tugging just enough to elicit the noise. Stiles bit his lip, cupping Derek’s face in his hands, forcing Derek to kiss him. And Derek did, jesus christ he did. It was like a switch was flipped, like Derek was finally showing Stiles what he wanted. Like he wasn’t holding back any longer. 

“Where?” Derek asked, breaking the kiss only long enough to get the words out. “Where do you want this to happen?” This was happening and Stiles shuddered, moaning into the kiss. 

“Bed, bed,” he urged. They made their way slowly into the bedroom, making a pit stop against multiple walls. Stiles tugged at Derek’s shirt, ridding him of it easily. He then worked on Derek’s jeans, only able to get the belt off get the button undone before he was tossed onto the bed. Derek grabbed the feet of Stiles’ jeans and pulled. Stiles groaned as he watched them slide down his legs. He gripped himself through his boxer briefs as Derek grabbed his legs, bringing him closer to the edge of the bed as he himself crawled onto it. Derek kissed him again, this time with less urgency. He had his hands on Stiles’ thighs, moving up and down them slowly. Stiles rolled his hips once, wanting more contact, needing more. Derek’s hand moved, ghosting over the top of the fabric, cupping Stiles through it. Stiles murmured indiscernible noises, licking his lips as Derek’s hand slipped beneath the fabric, wrapping around him. “Oh, fuck.”

“What do you want me to do, Stiles?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head, his chest heaving as he moved his hips, fucking up into Derek’s hand. Derek pressed his nose against Stiles’ neck, moving it along his collarbone. He spread his legs wider, the words not coming forward. He wanted more, more. Just more. Jesus christ if Derek didn’t touch him more soon he was going to combust. Derek backed off of him, which Stiles almost protested, until Derek brought Stiles’ legs together and started to slide his boxer briefs off. 

“Yes, that,” Stiles said, watching Derek toss them to the ground. “I, uh- okay,” Stiles gulped as Derek pulled him closer to the edge of the bed, his legs hanging over it as Derek went to his knees. Stiles hoisted himself up by his elbows, his toes curling as Derek took him into his mouth. 

What a fucking birthday.

Stiles closed his eyes, moaning as Derek blew him. His eyes snapped open when he heard the cap of lube opening. Derek had planned on this position, had put lube at the foot of the bed. Stiles bit his lip, watching Derek, a hand on the base of his cock, his lips wrapped around him as his other hand, slick with lube, rubbed against his ass. Stiles scooted farther down the bed, lifting his legs, holding onto the inside of his knees. His head hit the mattress as his chest heaved, his mouth open in a constant gasp. Derek’s teeth raked across Stiles’ thigh as he pressed a finger inward. Stiles whimpered, his eyes shutting as he squirmed against it. 

Derek worked him slowly, opening him up with one finger, then two, taking his time. Stiles stroked himself as Derek spread him wide. He groaned when Derek pulled away, not liking the suddenly lack of contact. He watched Derek stand, taking off his jeans, his briefs. Derek bent over, picking up a condom that must have been by the lube. He put one knee on the bed, leaning over, reaching past Stiles, grabbing a pillow. 

“You ready?” He asked. Stiles nodded, his mind in a lust filled haze. Derek kissed him, then helped him lift his hips, sliding the pillow beneath them. Derek situated himself between Stiles’ legs, spreading his knees. Derek leaned forward, his hands at either side of Stiles’ head. They kissed, chests pressed together, Derek’s cock rubbing against his before pressing against his entrance. He moaned against Derek’s mouth. Derek gripped his own cock, lining himself up. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist and tried to relax, tried to breathe. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Stiles shouted as Derek slowly entered him. He couldn’t move as he panted, as Derek started thrusting in and out. Derek pressed a hand against Stiles’ cheek, Derek’s forehead resting against Stiles’. Stiles couldn’t stop making noises with every movement that Derek made, groaning and gasping with every breath. Derek’s hands moved downwards, gripping Stiles’ waist as his thrusts quickened, deepened. He felt so full, so thoroughly fucked. His cock twitched between his legs, dripping precome on his stomach as Derek fucked into him repeatedly.   
Eventually, Derek’s pace slowed, his arms sliding up underneath Stiles’, holding onto his shoulders from beneath, pinning Stiles against him so that he was all the way inside of him. He stilled for a moment, catching his breath. Stiles squirmed, sweat covering his body, wanting friction, wanting Derek to move once more. 

“You want me to fuck you?” Derek asked, his lips pressed against Stiles’ ear. 

“Ye- yes.” Stiles said, his breath hitching. Derek began moving once more, in hard slow thrusts had sent sparks cascading throughout Stiles’ body. Stiles’ back arched as he came in a long, orgasmic shudder. He hadn’t known he was that close to coming, but by Derek’s movements he wasn’t that far off either. 

“God, you have no idea the sounds you are making, do you?” Derek asked him, his fingers leaving bruises from how he was holding onto him. Stiles shook his head, his hands reaching out, grasping at the sheets surrounding him, tugging at them. Derek leaned over, licking up Stiles’ mess. Stiles shivered, his mouth in an open moan. Derek pounded into him, then, riding out his own climax. Stiles’ legs felt like jelly and his brain was mush, unable to string a full sentence together. 

“I.... just. Again?” He asked as Derek pulled out of him, tying off the condom. Derek laughed, sitting next to where Stiles lay on the bed, his head hanging down between his shoulders. Eventually he nodded. 

“Give me a few.”

“No, now. Birthday,” Stiles mumbled, his eyes closing, his hand reaching out, touching Derek’s back tentatively. He raked his fingers against Derek’s skin, wanting his hand. Derek reached for him, intertwining their fingers. “Best birthday,” he whispered. 

“Good,” Derek said, smiling. Damn good. 

**Epilogue.**

“Dad I said Derek and I got it,” Stiles said with his phone cradled between his shoulder and cheek. He had a box in his hand and he was trying not to drop it as he walked up a flight of stairs. “You don’t need to come up after you get off work, we’ll be done.” Derek was helping Stiles move into his dorm, and the Sheriff had to work and he was being grumpy about missing out on it. “I’ve really got to go, though. Love you,” he said, motioning to Derek to grab the phone and slip it in his back pocket. Derek did, tapping Stiles on the ass after he stowed the phone away safely. He was carrying a box in one hand, using his hip for leverage as he grabbed keys out of his pocket. “How come you get to unlock the door?” 

“Because you decided to take the big box, because you’re a man.” Derek teased. He opened the door, letting Stiles walk in first. “Wow, I think dorms have gotten smaller.”

“Well it has been since the ice age that you went to college.”

“Ouch. That fucking hurts.” 

Stiles was going to school two hours from Beacon Hills, which was just about as far away as he could stand, considering everyone he cared about was staying in Beacon Hills, including Scott. His dad, Scott, and Derek were all there and here he was, moving away. Telling his dad about Derek had not been fun. Actually it was the opposite of fun. They did it after graduation, for obvious reasons. Stiles started off with stating flat out that nothing happened until his birthday, which was technically true. The Sheriff knew his son had been seeing the same person all year, he knew that they had never broken up, and he knew that Stiles loved him, even though he had never said it. Derek showed every single paper to the Sheriff, showing him that he graded him fairly. They told him about how they met, the truth. 

Stiles was grounded for all of thirty five minutes before the Sheriff called him downstairs to apologize. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to throw Derek to the wolves over the whole situation, considering how much he knew Stiles was serious about Derek. 

The Sheriff wasn’t mad that Derek was the one that got to move Stiles into his dorm, he was just upset he couldn’t join them. 

“Your dad invited me to the shooting range.” 

“You aren’t going, are you?” Stiles asked, his eyes wide. Derek shrugged. “He may shoot you. He could have waited for me to move away-”

“Stiles-”

“He knows where he could stow the body. I am serious-”

“I am sure if he was going to kill me he would have done it when he saw that it was me who came to meet him.” Stiles bit his lip, nodding. 

“Well... how about you do it some weekend I am home.”

“How often do you think you are going to have time to come home?” Derek asked as they walked back down to their cars. They had packed both up with Stiles’ things, driving the whole way on speaker phone. 

“Depends, how often are you going to come up and visit?” Stiles asked, grinning. 

“How about we switch off, for now, and see how that works.” Stiles nodded, wrapping a hand around Derek’s waist. 

“That could work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words cannot describe how much your comments have made me feel welcome in this fandom. I can't wait to write more for you :)

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by lsdme, thank you Lauren! 
> 
> Here is me, taking a stab at writing a multichapter fic in this fandom. *deep breaths*
> 
> date: please do not REPOST this fic anywhere else without my consent. Please do not put it on GoodReads that is a site for PUBLISHED works, not fic.


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